The One He Lived For
by chocolate fish
Summary: Four years after the war, and Ginny is sitting pretty in her parents house, good job, good friends, good family, and gorgeous clothing. Along comes Harry and life is about to get so much better.
1. She's getting MARRIED!

_**Disclaimer: Everything that you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling, sadly, I am not her. This goes for the whole story because I am totally useless at remembering to put things like this on each chapter.**_

_**This is a sequel of sorts to my story 'Dear Astrella', formerly titled At the Castle.**_

_**I decided to switch P.O.V's to Ginny's and kind of forgot to keep writing Luna's. **_

_**I do hope that you like this. This is Ginny's life. I like reviews, please give them to me **___

_**NOTE: This story, to all effects and purposes, has recently been beta-ed by **_**thisisforyou**_**. **__**Merci ma chérie**__**!**_

~Chapter 1~

"Ginny, how do you feel about Leamond-fur yellow?" What? What on earth is a Leamond and why do I need to have feelings about it?

"That sounds wonderful, Luna." I might as well go along with it.

"Good; it will be the colour of your maid of honour dress. I do so hope that Hermione likes it too." Now I know what this is about, a dress she wants to make me. Wait! Go back, Maid-of-honour dress? Luna is getting married!

"Luna! Rolf asked!" We all knew he would.

"Yes," why does she have to be so vague? "At the picnic, I think that I shall get married in four months," Ah! Detail! "I'm going to grow my nails." I ignore this.

"Luna, would you like Mum to organize it for you? Of course you would make all the decisions." This will get Mum off my back about Harry. Sure, we shared a kiss… well, more than just_ a_ kiss, but that doesn't mean that we are an item, does it? No! I am over Harry. He broke my heart. Yes. I am Ginevra Molly Weasley, first girl born into this family in generations; I don't need a man to be complete. Whom am I kidding, I need Harry like I need air to breathe, water to drink. I will just avoid him. He evaded me for long enough, he deserves it.

"I think Rolf has asked Harry to be his Best Man. Ron is going to be his Groomsman. Hermione will be my Bridesmaid." Harry. Best. Man. Me. Maid-Of-Honour. No! Sweet Merlin! Not only will I have to co-ordinate with him, but I also have to dance with him at the reception too! How will I know where I stand?

"That's great, Luna, I'm so happy for you." Merlin, my voice shook. She is going to know that something is wrong. I had better make my escape, or try to anyway. "Thank you so much, Luna! I really am delighted for you and Rolf; you utterly belong together. Are you going to go and tell Hermione now?" smooth, Weasley.

"Yes, the Wrackspurts are starting to swarm, Ginny; you need to get an exterminator for them. I shall go now. Goodbye." How does she speak in that voice? Can she hear herself? I need to go get some coffee. I'll go to Spinnet & Johnson's, the popular coffee shop in Diagon Alley run by Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Weasley (née Johnson), my sister-in-law. This is rather a mess I have gotten myself into, isn't it?

"Hi Ginny, what would you like today?"

"Hi Ange, can I please have two mochas with extra chocolate, foamy stuff and marshmallows?" I am hopelessly addicted to coffee, chocolate and marshmallows. This combines the three.

"Two of those liquid candy-bars, Ginny? George will kill me for supplying you with six different kinds of legal addictive substances."

"Ange, this whole being-married-to-George thing really hasn't improved your math, has it? Mocha-with-marshmallows is three legal addictive substances." He won't really kill her.

"Ginny, you ordered two coffees. That makes six. Now, I will be a good shop owner and make your drink." One would think that Ange would help George run the shop, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, but he insisted that she work with Alicia. He has Ron and Verity to help him run the shop. I am very proud of George. He has overcome so much in the past few years, with Fred dying and everything, yet he still laughs genuinely, has a wife (Ange) who makes a mean mocha, a son named Freddy who is cute as a button, and all of them are hard-core Quidditch fans and players. Well, Freddy tries to play. Cut him some slack, he _is_ only three.

"Here you go Ginny"

"Thanks Angelina". I miss Fred. Although, I think that since he died, George has become more of his own person. He will always be a twin and we will always love Fred, but he is less one-of-two now. He is more 100% George, or at very least 98.75% George.

"Hi Gin," a familiar voice said, "Do you mind if I sit down?" No! I bloody well don't want you to sit down!

"Sure, Harry. What are you doing here?" Damn must-be-nice complex.

"Um, Gin, this is the most popular café in Diagon Alley." Oh. I forgot about that.

"Huh, sorry, just had surprising news." No kidding.

"About Luna and Rolf, you mean? Yeah, me too." I wonder… Does he know? He-he! He is about to find out!

"Mmm, yeah. You know, she just asked me to be her maid-of-honour." Why can't I split up that word? _Those_ words, I mean.

"Sh...She d-did?" he asked in a voice that was not unlike my own when I found out. "I mean, that's awesome Gin." I love it when he calls me Gin. He is the only one who does it. Actually, I think that if anybody else tried, they might find themselves covered in bat-bogeys.

"Yes, it is. So are you going to be in the wedding?" Yes.

"Yes." I told you so. "Rolf asked me to be best-man." Huh. So _he_ can't separate the words either.

"So… I guess we will be spending a bit of time together, then." I bet he is thinking, 'gosh, Gin handled this much better than I did'.

"I guess so. Hey Ginny, about the other day," Here we go…

"No, Harry, it's fine, really. I have to go back home to the Burrow to help Mum get ready for dinner. Family night, are you coming?" We have them twice a month. It's absolute chaos with all my little nieces and nephews. All of Percy and Penny's children have names starting with P. Personally, I presume it to be preposterous and perfectly pompous. The eldest two (twins) are called Paige and Peighton (5 yrs old and terribly entertaining). Then there is Pieter (almost 4 yrs old and a perfect Prefect-Percy lookalike.) then triplets, Pascale, Petra and Phoebe (2 yrs old and more into jokes than Fred and George were). A rather large family, is it not? George and Ange have one son, Freddy, who is the same age as Pieter, and Bill and Fleur have two daughters; Victiore, who has formed a friendship with Teddy Lupin (it's quite sweet), and Dominque, who is the same age as the triplets, and is already devious. Well, as devious as a 2yr old can be.

"Oh, I shouldn't. Work and everything…" He needs convincing,

"I haven't seen everybody in ages, so I know you haven't. Come on, I think Teddy-Bear will be there!" I know he will be; I invited him and Andromeda.

"Sure. I haven't seen Teddy in, what, a whole hour?" I adore how much he loves and cares for Teddy-Bear.

"Ha-ha! Yeah, can we go to the Leaky Cauldron so we can Floo home? I hate Apparating." The whole squeezing-through-a-hole thing, I do not need it.

"Yup. Let's go."


	2. Ginny, dear, sit down

**Voila. Chapter 2. Enjoy!**

~Chapter 2~

"Mum! Harry is here for dinner! Andromeda and Teddy-Bear are coming too!" She is probably up in my room, snooping. I think she is concerned that her 20 yr old daughter has no… how would she put it? 'Love interest'.

"Harry? Ron, Big Bill, Charlie and George are out back practicing Quidditch." I wish I could go.

"Oh! Cool, see ya Gin." Now, to put away my bag,

"Ginny!" Yep, here she is. I think I will get a flat; she can't come snooping at a flat.

"Hi, Mum. What 'cha doing?" Time for confessions or excuses,

"Uh, I'm looking for my knitting needles; thought you might have them." Ha! That's a likely story. I am completely horrible at knitting and she knows it.

"They are on the kitchen table"

"Oh." That was a tad anti-climatic. "Ginny, darling, I'd like to talk to you," Well, here goes.

"Yes?" I am still standing, so I can run away if needed.

"Sit down, darling."

Plan has failed.

"You are 20 years old, sweetheart, is it not time that you settled down? Had a family of your own?" I would love that, mother, but it's not quite that simple.

"Yeah…" I say. She looks like the cat that got the knarl.

"Is there anyone, er, thing you want to talk to me about?" No! And don't try to force it out!

"Harry, Mum! I thought that I was over him but now I'm confused because he, we, will have just sat down with everyone for a family dinner, and you know how he sits diagonally from me at the table? Well, I would catch him staring at me with a weird look on his face. And the other day, we kissed, but I don't know if he regrets it! I don't, but he might and Mum! I'm confused!" Oh dear. I did not mean to say quite that much to her. "Mum, we used to go out and the kiss was a bit like the one on his seventeenth birthday, except Ron didn't barge in, and I don't know if my feelings have resurfaced, or if his have or if they are completely new feelings altogether." Whoops. I don't think she knew about fifth year…

"You went out? Oh, sweetheart! Is he acting a bit like he did before you started going out with him last time?" Yes.

"Yeah, but I hope he doesn't resolve it like he did last time; he just ran up to me after the Quidditch game I Seeked in because Snape gave him a detention, and he kissed me. Dean was there and everything! Actually I think Dean broke his glass." I chuckle slightly at the memory, as I gaze around the familiar lime surroundings. I really love my room. I have a really good view; I think that Harry commented lamely on it once. I still have all of my old posters up, Weird Sisters included, although they have long since disbanded. You know, I think that I probably should have talked to Hermione instead of Mum about this. I wouldn't have had to explain that to Hermione.

"I think he likes you, darling. He might even love you. Anyway, I am about to wash the linen, does yours need washing?"

"Yes, but wait. Mum, would you be able to help plan Luna's wedding? She does not have a mother to share this with. Please?" She will say yes. She wants to mother anyone and everyone. Orphans, or those she sees as orphans, are always the best culprits.

"Yes of course, Ginny darling. Who is her Maid of Honour, Bridesmaid? Who are Rolf's Best man and Groomsman?" She can separate the words! Why can't I?

"Hermione is the Bridesmaid, Ron is the Groomsman, Harry is Best-man and, um, I'm the Maid-of-Honour."

"Ok so what colours did she mention?" the sheets are, evidently, forgotten.

"Luna shares her father's view that sun colours should be worn to a wedding. She said something about Leamond-fur colour yellow for mine and Hermione's dresses." I hope that it's not a _very_ offensive colour.

"Ok. I will go do the dinner, what with Teddy and Andromeda; I have at least 25 mouths to feed!" Yes. The linen is unquestionably forgotten.

~4 months later- day after Luna's wedding~

Leamond-fur colour yellow + Weasley red = horrible! It is the ugliest colour under the sun. It looks fine with Hermione's brown hair (she spent hours de-bushing it with Sleekeazy's hair potion for the occasion) but with mine? Urguh. I would even go as far as to say that it looked pretty with Luna's dirty blond hair. I am going to have a red and gold coloured wedding. Harry likes those colours so he would not mind… hold it! I do not even go out with Harry, much less am I _engaged_ to him! Not that Mum hasn't tried, of course. She has been trying to push us together ever since I told her too much the day Luna announced her wedding. Harry has moved into a flat five minutes walk from The Burrow, now that he officially has no roommates due to Ron and Hermione's gorgeous wedding and the fact that they are classic Newly Weds. They can't keep their hands off each other. Personally, I completely agree with him. I would not want to live with their moon eyes either.

Mum was positively giddy with Happiness when she found out that he was moving in just down the street. Really, it is more of a house than a flat. Four bedrooms, a window room (more commonly referred to as my art room), a hugeantic lounge - well, bigger than his old one anyway. There is a kitchen, a bit small but positively gorgeous if I do say so myself. It is sunshine yellow with blue and white curtains and decorations. He is always at the Burrow for dinner and I can't cook anyway so it doesn't matter. I did the décor for him and Mum and Charlie did the garden. My favourite room is the master bedroom. It is green and gold. I did not pay attention to Hogwarts house colours. There are gold leaf prints everywhere and I absolutely adore the duvet. Actually, now that I think about it, the house seems to have taken on my own personal tastes. I also made sure not to pick colours that would clash with Weasley red given that we will be spending so much time here.

Despite the horrid colour choices, Luna's wedding was really quite beautiful. It was also interesting. I spent the majority of my time dancing, much to my surprise. He has definitely improved since the Yule Ball third year. I am glad of that; he was terrible, although he couldn't compare to Neville stepping on my feet every three steps; he merely looked like a Muggle show dog Parvati was putting through its paces.

"Hey, Honey." Oh! It's Hermione! Somebody I can talk to.

"Hi. Why are you here? Don't you have work?" Hermione took a job in the Magical Law Enforcement department of the Ministry of Magic, or M.O.M. She is the Head of Department now, and should be at work.

"Um, I took a sick day because I wanted to spend the day with you. We never hang out any more." She said all this in a guilty sounding voice. As she says it, I realise how true it is. That's what being married does, I suppose. "So, Gin-Gin," Eurgh! I hate it that nickname! The only person I will allow to call me that is George. Harry's the only one allowed to call me Gin. Hermione usually calls me 'Honey'. It started in second year. It's a long story. "Hermione! I have told you million-and-one times: do not call me Gin-Gin!

"Fine, Honey. What's up?" the roof.

"The sky is. Well, the roof is first." She levelled me with a look rivalling Mum's.

"Honey, I mean: what is going on in your life at the moment?"

"I just had an epiphany." I did. Just as she gave me the (aptly named by Charlie) 'Uh-Oh' stare.

"Well? Are you going to tell me what it's about?" No, I thought I would just let you waste away, wondering forever. Of course I am! Honestly, for being the smartest witch of her age…

"Ok, I had it just as you were giving me your look -"

"My look?" I hate interruptions.

"Yes! Your look. Are you going to let me continue? Good. So, my epiphany was… I think, that maybe, I think that I love Harry, Hermione."

"Eeeek!" Arg! Has that girl ever screamed quietly? I must pose this question to Ron. He spends more time than I do around her. "Oh! Ginny!" Huh? She called me Ginny. "That is brilliant! You know," she continued more quietly, thank goodness. "I don't think that he ever got over you. I really do believe that for him, those few months when you were together really were the best of his life." No, he can't. Can he? I mean, huh? I have told her everything; she should not mess with my head like this!

"Ginny, honey, I think that you have subconsciously known this for a while. You decorated that house for you. For the family you know in your heart that you will have." I know. Change the subject!

"Hey, Hermione? Harry, George and Charlie were going to have a picnic. Well, not technically. It's more like a Quidditch scrimmage they are taking food to. Do you want to go?" It'll be fun. They are just practicing, but since joining the Holyhead Harpies, I haven't really flown for fun. I loved being on Harry's team back in fifth year, and not only because it lead to some brilliant snogging. He was really encouraging. For the Quidditch, not the snogging. Actually, he told me that if I did not call back Gwenog Jones, he would not talk to me for a month. Childish, yes, but effective. Oh, there's George.

"Gin-Gin, Hermione, we are going in 20 minutes, are you coming?"

"Are Ange and Lucy going to be there?" Lucy is Charlie's wife. She is the same age as him and is on the Harpies team with me. She joined the year before I did, and is one of my best friends.

"Yup! And Mum. She wants to make sure we are 'nice' to one another. Who does she think we are?"

"We'll be down in a minute." Jumper; check. Goggles; check. Gloves; check. Need some more of those. Broom, check. Shoes, always! They are even stylish! New season's round-toed buckle heels in purple, with my skinny-leg blue jeans and last years Weasley jumper (sky blue)…my brothers and most of my sisters-in-law think I'm weird but Ange agrees with me about shoes. So do my god-daughters/nieces, Paige and Peighton.

"Are you ready? Let's go."

"Do we have food?" Yes, Hermione.

"Yup, now go."

**See the pretty coloured button right there? Click it and you can review! ****C'est juste comme la magie, non?**

**-Le Poisson Chocolat**


	3. In which Harry's eyes are stunning

**Afternoon my lovely readers! I do hope that you enjoy this chapter! It's just over 1000 words!**

~Chapter 3~

~walking back from picnic game~

Harry's eyes are stunning. I love talking to him because it presents the perfect excuse to gaze into them. We talked quite a bit today. Now we are walking back and have lapsed into a comfortable silence. When I got to the picnic destination with Hermione, Lucy gave me the longest look and said 'What has Gwenog told you about wearing high heels during a game?' to which I replied 'Not to, because I could sprain my ankle when I came back down. But these ones have a special charm.' Then Charlie, George and Harry burst out laughing and Harry said 'Gin, only you would have high heels you could wear while flying'. Overall, I had a great time, my team won. Harry was Seeker, Lucy and I Chasers, Percy was a beater (he has a good arm) and Ron was Keeper. Charlie looked quite put out that Harry got the Snitch before he did. The look on his face was hilarious.

"Mum! I'm going to Harry's, will be back for tea!" I yelled out as I put my broom back in the shed.

"You are, are you?" Harry says, trying unsuccessfully to sound stern.

"No, I'm actually going to Gareth-down-the-street's house. You are just my accessory."

"Gin, there are no Gareth's on this street. You make a terrible liar." It's true. The only people who ever believe me are Ron, Percy, Big Bill, Dad, and my childhood doll, Mary. Ron, Percy, Bill and Dad only believe me because I'm the baby of the family, though.

"Ah, you caught me. Oh well." I say as we enter his house, "I love your house, Harry. I mean, I know that I designed and decorated the interior, but I love the rustic feel. It feels like home." It does. Not home like the Burrow is, but home all the same.

"I know. I like how it has a lot of backyard. We could extend it as well." Did he just say 'we'? I turn to face him - I don't remember being quite this close to him. We lean in and… It's heaven. More than perfect. I have only felt like this once before: fifth year, and it wasn't cause of the O.W.L's. It is as if we are two bits to a puzzle, finally together. We break apart.

"Do you want to go out with me, Gin?" Nah, 'course not. YES!

"Does this answer?" I reply as I lean in once more, to kiss him.

"How long have you liked me, Gin?" Forever.

"Since I was eleven, and I stood up for you to Malfoy. But I have loved you since fifth year. I thought that when you got back from obliterating Voldemort, you had gone back to seeing me as a friend. In fact, I half moved on, convinced myself that I only wanted to be your friend. But about five months ago, I started to admit these feelings to myself." Wow. That was long. "What about you, Harry?" I wonder if he knows that he is the only one allowed to call me Gin…

"I have loved you since sixth, your fifth, year. I, in turn, believed you to have moved on. Why should you wait for me? I was gone a whole year! I underestimated you. About a year ago these feelings resurfaced." Really? Oh Merlin! A whole year! I would have exploded. Well not literally, but it would have been hard. Especially since it isn't just a crush anymore.

"You know what we should play? We should play 20 questions." I adore this game. I can never think of questions though.

"That's a great idea, Gin. I get to go first!" We have ended up on the couch; me lying in his arms comfortably, his chest on my back. I could get used to this. "Ok, so all of the usual questions are covered; your favourite food is marshmallows, favourite drink is hot, strong, sweet coffee, preferably mocha. Your favourite colour is emerald green and your favourite pair of shoes is your lilac spool-heels (I don't actually know what spool-heels are but that's what _you_ call them). Your favourite animal is a pygmy puff. What to ask… let's see…" Blimey, I didn't know he knew all that about me! He was also spot on about the shoes. I might have to give him a lesson about styles of shoes though. "Got it. Why did you decorate my house?" That's a toughie.

"I kind of pictured it as the house I would live in, you know? As soon as I walked in, I had this picture in my head of what it would look like. I would have decorated it whether you wanted me to or not. The master bedroom, that's my favourite room. It's exactly how I imagined my room to be when I was all growed up. Did you know, the soup cans (my favourite flavour of leek and potato) have a self-replenishing charm on them? The same charm has been used on the marshmallow packet and the instant mocha coffee packet." I guess all of that really is true. I never really thought about it before.

"I _did_ notice the soup cans, actually. Coincidentally, it's also my favourite flavour." He means co-inkydinkilly.

"My question! What do I want to know…?" All of the basics are covered, food: Treacle tart, colour: red and gold, drink: Hot coffee without milk or sugar, animal: dog, book: _Quidditch Through the Ages_ by Kennilworthy Whisp. Ah ha, I have it. Not genius but I rather want to know.

"What is your favouritest room in this house?" I know, house related, but whatever.

"Uh… The window room. The one with your art supplies in it. I like the feel of it." So do I. It's completely white. There are no curtains and only a glass coffee table with a crystal vase on top of it, my easel, my supplies and a white leather couch in it. It is very serene. I guess I have made myself at home here. I bet I have a wardrobe full of clothes or something.

"Your turn." Wonder what he will ask,

"What is your favourite form of art?" Another hard question.

"Dance. I love Tap but I can't actually do it. And shoes, they are an art form. Languages, they are so complex and interesting. I love sketching with charcoal; capturing a persons face. I have hundreds of you." Whoops. Now he will think that I'm creepy.

"Oh. It's your question." He sounds happy. I love his eyes. Have I mentioned that? They are such a deep, emerald green…

"Ok, do I have a drawer or something full of shoes and clothes here? I can't remember."

"Yeah. I think you took over the wardrobe in one of the spare rooms. Was that your question? My turn!" I feel him shake with laughter beneath me.

"What's funny?"

"Your question, Ron's been itching to know this for years," I give him the evils. "I won't tell; I just find it amusing that I will know and he won't. Who's your favourite brother?" Why is he torturing me with that smile! Doesn't he know what it does to me? Wait, he probably does, and he is doing it on purpose.

"Well, Big Bill is always nicest to me, but he treats me like I still wear pigtails and not high heels, Charlie is fun and treats me like an equal. He taught me to fly. Percy taught me to read by reading me a story before bed every night, and when he couldn't read it, he made up a story that matched the pictures. Fred always made me laugh the hardest, George can cheer me up the fastest and always makes me feel better and Ron is so protective it's not funny. We were best friends before he went to Hogwarts, but he grew up without me that year. I miss Charlie the most when he isn't here. I love all my brothers but I think that I like Charlie the best. I wish Fred was still here." That was a mouthful. "It's my turn!"

**I spoke of reviews last chapter, and I would like to thank those who did review, you know who you are, and I really appreciate it. More would be wonderful of course…**

**-Chocolate Fishy**


	4. Love is in the air! And Molly knows it

**Hello all! Enjoy this phantabulosityness chapter!**

~Chapter 4~

~next morning~

It is nice and warm here, in this big red room. Wait, my bedroom is small and lime green, not big and red. There is only one red room I know of… Merlin! I'm at Harry's house! And that pillow: it's his chest! Crud, Mum will murder me for staying! Ron will jump to conclusions, not that _he_ can really talk…

"Ginny? Ginny, are you in there?" Great, Mum. Harry jumped off the couch, knocking me off in the process.

"Here, pretend to be asleep." Is he going to attempt to fool the un-foolable? This would be good if she didn't always believe him anyway.

"Harry, is Ginny there?" Mum says as soon as he opens the door.

"Yup. She fell asleep there before tea and I didn't have the heart to wake her." Oh! That's so sweet! But he fell asleep first; I had to put his glasses on the side table for him. "She must've eaten a lot for lunch yesterday, to not even be hungry." How did he learn to lie so proficiently? He sounds as honest as the day rises.

"Oh that's good, dear. Ron came around early this morning, I think Hermione was at a breakfast meeting and he still does not know how to cook an edible meal, and he was going stir-crazy at the thought that she didn't come home last night. I told him that it would just be something innocent like this. No need to worry." I can practically hear the smile I know is creeping onto his face at the mention of Hermione's cooking skills being better than Ron's are. I feel truly sorry for their future kids. I may not be able to cook, but Ron can burn water and Hermione is only marginally better than I am.

"He has always been protective of her. He just doesn't want her hurt." I get the feeling that he is saying this more for my benefit than hers.

"Yes. I had better go and tell him that she fell asleep here." I hope he doesn't come barging in here questioning Harry whether or not his intentions are pure towards me.

"Ok. I have to go to work soon, but I will leave a note saying how worried Ron was." Now, I know for a fact that he does not have work today. It's Monday and his shifts are 10:00am- 5:30pm from Tuesday to Thursday, and 6:30am- 7:10am Saturdays.

"Ok dear. I take it you took an extra shift?" Darn it; apparently she knows his shifts also.

"No, I have some paperwork I need to get through. Could you pass a message on to Ron to please not disturb me, as I don't particularly want to deal with paperwork on my day off. Thank-you, Molly." She really wishes that all of her children-in-law's, and Harry, would call her 'Mum' but none of them do. At first, it was Mrs. Weasley but she said that, and I quote, 'That's your name now. Just Molly. None of this Missus business.' Well, she didn't say that to Harry. Just Ange, Penny, Lucy, Hermione and Fleur. But she did insist that Harry call her Molly.

"Ok, dear. I will tell him that. Come for dinner. That is a command not an invitation." She added before he could refuse, "I am making a roast and Yorkshire pudding as a special treat." Yum! He had better say yes…

"Ok, thank-you! Anyway, I really must be going, I haven't even gotten dressed yet." I'd swear that he could read my mind sometimes.

"Right. Have a good day, dear." She's gone. You know, I don't like pretending to be asleep very much.

"Gin-Gin," Maybe I will let him call me 'Gin-Gin' as well. It sounds nice.

"Yeah?"

"What do you want to do today?" Nothing, everything, stay here, go out. All with him of course.

"Well, I think that you need a reward for that perfectly executed lie to my mother."

"Oh yeah? How do you know it was a lie?"

"I happen to know that it was a lie because I know your work schedule. That isn't creepy-stalkerish at all."

"'Course not."

"I wasn't finished talking, Harry dearest. Anyway, you did all of your paperwork on Saturday morning and you don't have work on Mondays, Fridays, Sundays and from 7.10am Saturdays." As head Auror, he gets pretty sweet hours. Although, he is always 'on call'. Pretty much, if there is an emergency, Harry is called.

"Yeah, yeah. You said something about a reward?" Oh yeah, nooow he wants it.

"Come get it!" I tease as I leap up off the couch and run across the room. He jumps up after me and chases me round the lounge and kitchen.

"You can't catch me! You can't catch me!" I love playing 'chase'. When I was little, I would spend all of the holidays when Bill and Charlie were home getting them to chase me around the garden.

"Ha! Got'cha!" I was about to say something, but he silenced me with a kiss.

"I'd love to keep going, but I need oxygen. So, Harrykins, what _are _we going to do today? Personally, I wouldn't object to just doing this. Alas, Mum would get suspicious if I didn't come home for clothes."

"Yes, she might rather. You know, I quite liked that reward. Can I have another?" Of course not. I need a shower. Nevertheless, He's not to know that… insert evil laugh.

"What would you do to earn it?"

"Eeeerrr…" That's what I thought.

"Exactly. Now, excuse me; I need a shower. Move! Harry! No! Eeep!" I hate my ticklish-ness.

"'Eeep', Ginny? What kind of noise is that? Aww! Where you going?" There go the puppy-dog eyes.

"Nope, they're not working." With that, I leave to take my shower.

"I'm hungry. What do you have, Harry?" I said as I sauntered back into the room. I got my guy jeans, a sky blue t-shirt with diamantes and "Will work for shoes" written on it, and my Stella McCartney cloud-print, ballet tie wedges. They are super koolies, and I love them. I hope that Harry cooks me something…

"Well what do you want, Ginny? Nice shirt, by the way." Pancakes. With maple syrup and freshly whipped cream!

"Thanks, do you like my shoes too? Could I pretty-please-with-coffee-and-marshmallows-on-top have pickle sandwiches with chocolate goulash and orange marmalade, Harry?"

"I do like your shoes. Are those your brother's jeans? I'll make pancakes then, Ginny." It is a code of sorts. It started over breakfast sometime in fifth year when we were trying to confuse Hermione into thinking it was a Sunday evening. Suffice to say it did not work; I think it was because the sun was out rather than our dismal acting skills back then. The code goes like this, Bacon= Pheasant (bleugh), Kippers= Roast lamb, Eggs= mandarins (don't ask.), Pancakes= Pickle sandwiches, Maple syrup= Chocolate goulash, Whipped cream= Orange marmalade.

"What are you going to have, Harry?"

"Roast lamb, Pheasant, Chocolate goulash and Orange marmalade. Maybe some Heinz, Ginny." Heinz= Tomatoes. Not tomato sauce.

"This saying each others names at the end of each sentence is bothersome. Let's stop."

"Good plan, you make the pheasant, goulash and Heinz, and I shall do everything else." I think that it's a wonder Harry turned out so well, when he spent most of his life living with those horrible Muggles. At least they taught him to cook. Not that he had much choice; with Dudley eating everything in sight, how else was he supposed to stay alive?

"Gin, the bacon is done." Whoops, wasn't aware that so much time had passed.

"Are the sandwiches almost done, Harry?" Looks like it. I love pancakes.

"Just one more batch to go. Are you going to get that chocolate goulash from the fridge?" Good idea. We work well together, don't we? When I was little, I used to dream that I would marry him. I guess that this is a bit like marital life then. It feels quite natural, like this is how it has always been.

"Let us serve!" Nice, Harry.

"No wonder Dudley got so fat, Harry. These are good!" They are lovely and fluffy.

"It was my great-grand-mother-on-my-Mum's-side's recipe." Oh. He must have found it in one of Petunia's recipe books.

"So, Gin. We officially 'Go Out' now, don't we?" Yup. And we are going to get married, and have kids. I like the name Lily Luna for a girl and Sirius Albus for a boy, you?

"Yes. It feels as though we have been going out for years, just not officially."

"Yeah. I love how good a friendship we have." So do I.

~few hours later~

"Ginny! Ginny! Are you awake?" Oh no, it's Mum!

"Harry, hide!" I whisper frantically,

"Why, it's my house." Honestly, for an Auror, he isn't the brightest bulb in the box.

"Because you are meant to be at work, Pumpkin-Head." Good point, he says.

"Alohomora. Ginny, are you coming home now?" I think that I shall pretend to be painting. But, what to paint? Such hard decisions to make in this hard life. Should I paint the couch, or should I paint from memory? I will just continue with this one of Harry, it's almost done.

"In my art room, Mum!" Whoopsie daisies! (gosh, Ginny, _nobody_ says that anymore! And when they did, it was just little girls with blonde ringlets!) I didn't mean to refer to my art room as _my _art room; I hope that she doesn't notice.

"'Your' art room, Ginny? This is Harry's house." Having seven kids has made her too smart. It's no wonder that we are all psychopaths. And, Mother, I know that this is Harry's house! Harry himself reminded me of this fact not 10 minutes ago.

"Yeah, yeah, Mum. But, I don't see Harry painting. He is a horrible painter; he gets it _everywhere_, on his shirt, the walls, and the carpet. Huge mess. Personally, I don't want to clean it up, so, this is my art room. Temporarily no Harry's allowed. Also, I may have possibly, there is a slight chance that, maybe, quite possibly really, that I claimed and decorated this room for me…" Somebody should tape my mouth shut.

"Ok, dear. I have to do the grocery shopping anyway; I just wanted to make sure that you were ok. See you."

"Bye Mum." Click goes the door, and out comes Harry.

"Gin-Gin, you need to glue your mouth shut," I was just thinking that. "You always say too much to your mother. Maybe you need some motivation to keep your mouth taped"

"Maybe I do."

"Will this work?" and he leans forward and kisses me. Heaven is, just like the Muggle song says, a place on earth; this little patch right here is heaven.

"**You say goodbye, and I say hello. Hello, hello!" –The Beatles – Hello Goodbye**

**Hello my lovelies. Reviews are my only source of recognition for the mountains of hard work I put into each chapter… Please?**

**-Chocolate Fishy**


	5. Boxes, Boxes and more Boxes

**Chapter up! Enjoy.**

~Chapter 5~

Five months later- in the kitchen at the Burrow

"Mum, I'm moving in with Harry." I am ecstatic about it!

"Ginny! You are not married to him! It would be dishonourable! How can you do this?" Sometimes, I really dislike having a worrywart Mum.

"Mum, I would be in the spare room, of course." Yeah right, like that is actually going to happen. We have both gotten too used to sleeping in the same bed as one another to be able to live in the same house _without_ sharing a bed. "And, Mum, even if we did share the bed, nothing would happen. I'm waiting until after marriage."

"I guess that would be okay then, dear. Which one of you is going to tell your brothers?"

"Well, Charlie and Big Bill already know. George probably does by now also, and Harry is telling Percy now. Percy has been pushing for this, so he won't mind. Ron… oh gosh, Ron! He is going to…" Merlin, I completely forgot about Ron! I will have to tell him. He would probably punch Harry or something if he told him. Every single one of my brothers has been expecting this. Heck, some even pushed for it! All, that is, except Ron. Mum was seriously hoping for an engagement announcement. I think that she is right. Sort of. Not right now, I'm not quite ready; if he asked tomorrow, I would say yes, of course. However, it would be a long engagement.

"I will just go and pack up the rest of my clothes and other things that I want to take, Mum." I wonder if Lucy would come if I asked… "Actually, Mum, I will fire-call Lucy first."

"You do that." She responds distractedly. She must be planning Christmas jumpers already. It's simply months before Christmas, but I suppose when there is… uh, 31, I think, jumpers to knit. "Oh, Lucy- Charlie. Tell them to come to dinner, will you? I'll send an owl to everyone else. It can be an impromptu family dinner." To use Mums terminology, 'You do that'. I'll tell Harry when I get home. That sounds nice, Home. Especially when used in relation with Harry. Now, to call Lucy.

"Lucy. Lucy! Are you there?"

"Yeah, right here Ginny. What did you want?"

"Well, a) can you please come round and help me pack up my stuff, and b), Mum says that you are coming to the Burrow for dinner, no options." I am so excited! I practically live at Harry's house already, I mean; most of my clothes are there already. Also, almost all of my shoes are there, which is really saying something. There is still a lot of my stuff to move, though.

"I shall just tell Charlie, and then I will be right over."

Hurry up, Lucy. It's been ten minutes already. Just cause he's _there_ doesn't mean that you can have a snog-fest. Even if you are newly-ish-weds.

"I'm here. Now, why are you packing up your room? Ooo!" She grabs my left wrist.

"OW! No! Down Lucy, down! Yes, I am moving in with Harry, no, we are not engaged." Why do I get the feeling that this will happen several times over the next few hours?

"Ok, let's get down to business. We shall attack that pack!"

"Awful rhyme, Luce."

"I know." She smiles happily.

Several hours and many boxes later

"Wow." Three voices say in unison behind me, I whip around as if I've been doing it my whole life. Which I have, actually. I see their eyes flick down to my left hand before they relax further and take seats wherever they find a seat.

"Yeah. Charlie, I found your old seeker gloves. George, here is your old colouring book. Sorry Bill, I don't have anything of yours that I am willing to give back." I did find his old journal from when he was nine onwards. He wrote in it everyday from his 9th birthday, until the day that he left Hogwarts. It had the coolest charm that meant that it never ran out of pages, yet still stayed thin. I gave it to Fleur to read. Am I not a wonderful younger sister?

"Thanks, Gin-Gin. Appreciate it. It was the one thing I would never let Fred touch."

"He never let you touch his 'sensitive notes' book either." Bill interrupted. He let me read it, favourite (only) sister privileges. It was just Fred admiring every girl from Hogwarts and the Village. Although, he stopped writing in it during his 7th year when he started going out with Katie. You know, I reckon that he really did love her. Actually, I'm pretty sure that they eloped in my 6th year, the one where Harry, Ron and Hermione left. Katie died in the second Battle of Hogwarts as well. They are together in Heaven now, watching over us.

"Here, we will help you take these to Harry's. Here, Big Bill, you take this one, George you grab this one, you take that box of books, Ginny. I will take this one." Charlie seems to have acquired a penchant for bossing everyone around. Everybody except for Lucy that is.

"Don't use magic, though, boys. Don't want the Muggles to see our magic." They (predominantly George) always forget. I have to remind them every time.

"Don't worry, Gin-Gin! We're big kids now!" That's what I was worried about.

"Let's go, come on Charlie, George. Ginny, you lead the way to Harry's house. I mean sorry, yours and Harry's house." There is something to be said about owning the keys to a house. I mean, I know that wizards can just flick their wand and say "Alohomora" for the door to open, but it's the feeling of ownership it gives that I like.

"Honey, we're home!" George calls as we walk through the door.

"Hey Bill, George, Charlie. Hello Gin." I love how his mouth curves into a smile when he says my name. "Why do they get to help and I don't?" Because they were there and I couldn't be bothered flooing.

"We promised her on her 5th birthday (via letter) that when she met her future husband- oof!" that's when I hit him with a spell in his gut. Really, Charlie has no sense of self preservation.

"Harry, there is still time to back out you know…"

"Big Bill! Don't say that! Shut up and go to get more boxes unless you want to have bat-bogeys!" I watch, satisfied, as all of my (older, I might add) brothers in the house file out the door. There is only my dresser table and a box full of soft toys left, they will manage.

"I'm really excited about this." I tell Harry as I put my arms around his neck semi-seductively.

"Well, I could certainly get used to it. Ron doesn't know yet, does he?" I am actually quite glad. I told Hermione, but I am pretty sure that Ron would explode if he knew that I'm moving into Harry's, but if I have already moved in, he can't do anything about it! I lean in and kiss Harry passionately. I love kissing Harry, not only does he taste good (like caramel and coffee), but it's not harsh or unpleasant, it's sweet and loving.

"Hem-hem" Urgh. The boys are back. "Gin-gin, we didn't carry all of this heavy furniture to come back and see our baby sister attacking our almost-brother-in-law." Almost-brother-in-law? Oh, George's definitely gonna get it now. "Aw! Gin-gin! Why'd you have to use _that_ spell? Ow! Get those bat bogeys off!"

"Nope," I say, popping the P, "but I think Hermione knows the counter curse. Harry, can you please help me unpack?" Unpacking with magic is easy, Lucy taught me a charm that basically does it for you, and all you have to do is point your wand where you want the item to go after casting the charm. Despite the easiness of it, it's still quicker with two wands on the job.

"But Ginny-kins, how will I learn my lesson if, Ow! I don't know what, Ow! I did wrong. (Wince)" Sigh. Do I have to go through this?

"First off, George, if you _ever_ call me Ginny-kins ever again, I wouldn't be getting any nieces or nephews from you, if you catch my drift. Secondly, just because I love Harry, and want to spend the rest of my life with him, does not mean that you can go around calling him my fiancé, because he is not my fiancé, yet. No, I don't care if you did not say it outright, you insinuated it, and coming from your mouth, that is like screaming it from the rooftops. Which, incidentally, you can't do either." I can't believe George made me say all that _in front_ of Harry. I hope that Harry didn't get too embarrassed; thank goodness that he doesn't blush easily. I hope that my kids get that particular trait off him. Ok, books into bookshelf, clothes into drawers, makeup into bathroom drawer. Mostly done. I really am grateful for that unpacking spell. It makes unpacking so much easier. Now, where should I put this?

Several hours and many boxes later

Harry has gone back to the Burrow to greet Ron and Hermione. George provoked a Talk. About matrimony. Harry feels the same way that I do, thankfully. Soon, but not just yet. I had better go and see Ron so that he doesn't freak out, and I need food. After all of that unpacking, I am famished. I do like this town. It's so pretty, and quiet. Somewhat sleepy.

"Ginny! Where were you? I wanted to tell you something!" Ron, we seem to have swapped lines.

"I was out for a walk. What did you want to tell me?" He sounds gleefully excited.

"Come on, come on. Hermione wanted to be there." I wonder what this hugeantic secret is.

"Honey! Guess what?" Young newlywed couple…

"You're pregnant?" I half hope not, then Mum would have even _more_ people to cook for and she might enlist my help, and nobody wants that.

"Nope. Guess again." Uhhh…

"You brought a house?" Their flat is teeny tiny, no place to raise kids.

"Yup! And a dog! We named her Shay; she is a Muggle dog, not a Crup." Merlin's wand! They got a dog! Cute! But I'm not walking it.

"Gin, your face! Your jaw looks like it is going to fall off!"

"Harry," Hermione says, "that was the lamest joke-slash-comment I have heard you say in years. Practice makes perfect!" I agree to the ends' degree. Hay! That rhymed!

"Hermione! You and Ron are officially a family!"

"Honey, it's just a dog. That hardly constitutes a family." Shock Horror. Apparently, she doesn't know the young-couple-get-a-dog-then-get-pregnant-and-almost-forget-the-dog rule.

"Yeah, and Shay will be your first 'baby' then you and Ron will get pregnant, and Shay will become a dog once more. It's practically young-couple rule no. 21." How could the queen of knowledge not know that? Harry and I won't get a pet. I am useless at caring for them. Harry's owl, Pine, (original name, huh? That is what happens when Harry throws out his History of Magic book. I would have named her something pretty, like Oroginnia.) And my owl, Smurf, will be plenty of pets: owls practically look after themselves.

"Anyway, Ron, I have something super awesome to tell you as well! I moved out!" Please don't explode please don't explode…

"Merlin, Ginny! I thought that you'd never move out! Where did you move to?" Drat. I was hoping that he wouldn't ask this question.

"Well, you see, it's just down the road, lots of land…"

"It's Harry's house, isn't it?" He interrupts me. You hit the nail smack bang on the head, little-big brother.

"Yes, and I am so happy about it! Bill, Charlie, and George helped me move my stuff in this morning after I had finished packing with Lucy. I feel like I am starting to properly live my life again, you know the feeling, don't you?" I hope that he can empathise. I know Harry can, he felt the same way when he brought the house.

"Ginny! How could you?" Idiot, he makes it sound like I've betrayed him or something.

"How long, pray tell, did you sleep in the same bed as Hermione before you were married? Just because I am one year younger than you does not, I repeat, does not give you the right to dictate my life. I love Harry, and, not that it is _any_ of your business, but I do not plan on going any further than I want to with him. Besides, he is your best mate; you should trust him for Godric's sake!" I'm about to keep screaming at Ron, when Harry puts his hand on my arm. Instantly, I calm.

"Ok, ok, I surrender. But I am not happy!" Who bloody cares what you think, Ron? I have stayed _very_ late at Harry's before, this just saves the worry for Mum.

"Everyone! Dinner is served!" Mum yells into the living room. Good, I'm starving.

Ron's P.O.V at dinner

I can't believe it! Just before, when Ginny was screaming like a banshee at me, Harry touched her arm lightly, and she just stopped! She calmed down instantaneously! She has the hottest head of all of us, and Harry calmed her with just one movement! They are so bloody in-sync with one another! Even before they started to go out in 6th year, Ginny was the only one who could really calm him. They don't seem to need spoken communication to get their point across. You know, they told everybody else before me. Ginny has officially moved into Harry's house. To be honest, I have been half-expecting it ever since Ginny decorated his house. Harry does not paint. He has a paint room in his house. When I saw that, I knew. Well, actually, Hermione told me but that is completely beside the point. They act like a married couple; they even have a breakfast routine. First, Harry butters four bits of toast; he puts raspberry jam on three, and honey on the other. He mushes the honey one and a raspberry one together like a sandwich, and puts it on Ginny's plate. While he is doing that, Ginny is making coffee, 3 sugars, vanilla and milk for her, straight up black for him. They do this every time I see them eat breakfast together, sometimes; instead of toast, they use pancakes. It's very coupley. Well, normal coupley. Hermione and I act coupley apparently, but we are on the other end of the spectrum. We bicker like cats and dogs. It keeps life interesting.

"Ron! Ronald! Hello? I asked you a question!" It's so much more fun to bait her; she bites so easily!

"Well, dear, you could repeat the question." Can't she tell when I'm thinking? Sure, it's a rare occurrence, but still!

"Repeat! You, Ron Bilius Weasley are impossible!" Thank-you for noticing it, Hermione, dear. I really do love her. According to Ginny, Shay will be mine and Hermione's first 'baby'. I got to name Shay, but Hermione chose her. I love dogs, always have.

"Me? Impossible? Always."

"Ronald! Ooo, I tell you, you push my buttons!" You know, I never understood that expression. What does it mean? I am just about to pose my question to Hermione when Ginny half-yells,

"Shut up the both of you! Hermione, tell Ron the question again. Ron, you listen carefully for once in your life and then answer." I do listen. I hope that Harry knows what he is getting into. Ginny can be a handful, she got Mum's temper.

Ginny's P.O.V at dinner

"Ron! Ronald! Hello? I asked you a question!" Idiot. After knowing her for at least 10 years, he really should learn to listen to her.

"Well, dear, you could repeat the question."

"Repeat! You, Ron Bilius Weasley are impossible!" You only figured it out now, Hermione. I thought that you were the smartest witch of your age.

"Me? Impossible? Always." I do not want this to turn into a screaming match. That comment is bound to earn him a smack round the head.

"Ronald! Ooo, I tell you, you push my buttons!" It isn't just you.

"Shut up the both of you! Hermione, tell Ron the question again. Ron, you listen carefully for once in your life and then answer." I'm the only one who can shut them up once they get started.

"Ron, don't you think that it's lovely how Luna and Rolf are moving to Brazil for a while to research foreign animals?" Really? They are moving? I didn't know that. They only just got married a while ago, five and a bit months to be exact.

"Yes. It is very exciting for them." She has Ron on a leash, he agrees with her in public more now that that they are married. I can't wait until tonight, my first official night in a house that isn't the Burrow or Hogwarts. It'll be so nice knowing that when I wake up, Harry will be right next to me. I know, sap-alert but whatever, I don't care.

Several hours later

"Bye Mum, Dad!" We are the last to leave because we live so close. I wonder if it's strange for them, not having _somebody_ there. They haven't had the house to themselves in almost 30 years. Wow, that is a long time.

"Can you believe it, Gin? We officially live together!" I know exactly how he feels.

"I know, I know! Oooo, can I unlock the door?" He nods, and reminds me that the lock turns right. I know this, as I have opened the door many times. But I ignore his over helpfulness. The reason for my excitement is because it is the first time I have used my shiny silver Muggle key.

"Arhhh." Yawn. I am uber tired. Mum grilled me about every single aspect of mine and Harry's relationship after Hermione had finished torturing Ron, and had started to eat him with her eyes.

"I might go to bed, you coming, Harry?" I hope so, he is warm; I'm freezing cold.

"Won't be a minute. I have something for you." He leans over and kisses me sweetly on the lips. Alas, just like with chocolate, I want more. The sweet 'welcome home' kiss quickly turns into a deep, passionate and loving kiss.

"Mmm, I could get used to that. But I'm still going to bed, I need my beauty sleep." And I am absolutely exhausted.

"No you don't, you are gorgeous already." And Cyndi (Lucy's sister who was in my year at school, and is now an Auror with Harry, married to Ernie Macmillan, and one of my good friends) wonders why I fell in love with him; free compliments, duh! "I will come inside in a minute; I'm going to check my W-Mail first." Which pyjamas should I wear? Duckies or grown-up lace? Duckies, I'm not a lace-y girl. Merlins beard! What are these sheets? 1000 thread count? They are marvellous! Ahhh, sleep. My friend.

**Don't forget to review!**

**-Chocolate Fishy**


	6. Don't you just love brothers?

~Chapter 6~

~2 months later~

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Thank you _so_ much Ron, for breaking into our house at - what is the time? _6:30 in the morning_, to tell me happy birthday. Note the sarcasm?

"Huh? Mate, why are you here so early? Gin, do you want breakfast now?" Harry asks groggily. Might as well.

"Well, I'm not going to be able to get back to sleep. What'cha making?" Waffles, waffles, waffles, waffles, please waffles.

"Waffles, I know that you love the penguin waffle maker that Hermione gave us." Yayness! He knows me so well.

"Ginny, you got it made. Harry, mate? You're whipped." The nerve of him! To come into our house at six thirty in the morning, and then he insults Harry!

"Go away, Ron. Make your own breakfast at your house!" There. Now he should clear out.

"Ah! Ginny, stop being so disreputable! Shoving me out onto the street like this, what will the neighbours think?" Disreputable?

"Whose house is this? Mine and Harry's. Whose birthday is it? Mine. Who has the right to shove you out of her house and onto the street? I do. So: _out_."

"Ron, just leave, eh? Nice word, disreputable, but you used it in the wrong context." Trust Harry to know that.

"Yeah, Hermione taught it to me. Guess I'll be going then. See you later at Mum's." Rats. I detest all of the attention that I am bound to receive at dinner. Curses for being the only girl baby.

"Wait! I thought that you said, Ginny, you were sleeping in the spare room? Why are you both in the same bed?" Damn it. I had hoped that he wouldn't grow a brain.

"Hark who's talking, Ron! How long, pray tell, did you sleep in the same bed as Hermione before you got married? It's not like anything has happened, I do have morals you know." Hermione took Harry and I to church a while ago, (I know, we are wizards, but that doesn't mean that we can't believe in God) and we have both been going since. It says in the bible that it's a sin to 'commit adultery' before marriage, and I agree. Sort of. Apparently, we are living in sin, living in the same house.

"Ooh, does that mean that you guys are almost married, Ginny?" Ron says mock-angrily, "Why didn't you tell me?" Just go away.

"Mate," Harry starts, once again reading my mind, "You knew that we are living in the same house, we love each other, and we have not done anything because we both want to wait until after marriage. Leave it. Go get breakfast at your house." Ron backs down at Harry's calm, solid argument, bids his goodbyes and leaves.

"Why does he seem to think that I need serious protection? That I don't know what I want and how to live my life?"

"He just loves you and doesn't want to see you hurt. But it does irk me that he can't seem to trust his best friend." I nod my agreement and open my mouth to continue berating Ron, but Harry cuts me off.

"Gin, would you like my present now?" He distracts me from my pre-prepared rant immediately. I nod, and he leaves the room. I wonder what it is. Hopefully another silver chain, my other one got lost at Quidditch practice last week. It was lucky really, that the charm that was on it had fallen off the night before. That charm was Grandma Prewetts. Mum gave it to me last Christmas.

"Here you go Gin. Do you like it?" I do, he handed me a rather large, flat, square box wrapped in bright paper with the Puddlemere United logo all over it. His lame idea of a joke. Puddlemere completely flattened us a while ago. Oliver invited Harry and me to the after party, despite my being the top chaser of the Harpies. We had so much fun, Oliver was unbelievably 'pished' (George's word-of-the-week) and he kept leaping onto tables to dance. Quite the sight. Of course, I have been known to do some table dancing myself at after-match parties. It's really rather fun. Anyway, as I tear off the paper, and open the gold-rimmed venetian red box, my jaw dropped. Inside was a beautiful, silver pendant with an emerald jewel, the exact colour of Harry's eyes, in the centre. In a nutshell, I love it.

"Harry! It's absolutely wonderful! I love it." I especially love how it matches Harry's eyes perfectly. -Insert sappy smile here-

"I hoped you would. It was my Mum's. I found it in the vault." Oh! He is so sincere about everything. I love how it was Lily's.

"Harry, there are no words to describe how I feel right now. Happy, proud, excited, grateful, and sad but in a nice way. I love you so much." That explains it nicely

"I love you too, Gin. Thank-you for liking it." He says with a smile. I smile back, of course. Darn Dursleys, he actually _thanked_ me for liking it. I hate how love-deprived he was before he came to Hogwarts, and Mum adopted him.

"Come on, now we have finished the wonderful breakfast that you have made us, we really should get dressed and go to the Burrow; I want birthday presents!" I think that I shall wear my tight Muggle jeans and the cool green three-quarter sleeved t-shirt with a dragon on it that Hermione brought me because apparently it "Screamed at me to buy it for you." I thought that it actually screamed until Hermione noticed my expression and assured me that it didn't, "Relax, Honey, it's just a Muggle expression." That calmed me down.

"Gin-gin, how long does it take you to get changed? You're taking longer than Aunt Petunia, and that's saying something." Sigh. Can't a girl spend 5 minutes in front of a mirror? 'No, of course not,' says the part of my brain that sounds oddly like Bill.

"Coming. Which shoes should I wear, my pretty black spidered kitten heels or my favourite green stilettos?"

"Stilettos. They make you easier to kiss." Trust Harry to say that. Although, I quite agree. What is better, though, is that Mum really can't go on about how I should wear sensible shoes, not 'those 4-inch death traps', which really isn't fair because they are only three-and-a-half inches, and they have a special charm on them to stop the heels breaking or getting stuck in anything, and a cushioning charm, and an anti-trip jinx. All my shoes have those spells on them; I cast them myself.

"Ok, I'm ready. On y va."

"Oniva? What does that mean?" Harry asks as we walk out the door.

"On - y – va. It means 'let's go' in French. Mum taught me a little bit of language before Hogwarts. Bill and I were the only ones to do French. Everyone else only wanted to do Spanish. Well, except for Percy, he learnt Russian from Aunty Muriel. Why anybody would want to spend more time than strictly necessary with her is beyond me, but each to their own, I guess." By this time, we're walking up the Burrow's long, meandering driveway.

"How much of it do you remember?" Harry asks me, sounding particularly curious as to the answer. I remember quite a bit, actually, but I don't want to tell the world that.

"Um, well, um… I'm fluent. Mum is too, but Big Bill never quite got it. Ironic that he married a French girl, really." Harry laughs at this, and I continue, "I don't think that Fleur knows about us speaking French. She was berating Mum and me quite spectacularly in rapid French the summer before she and Bill got married. She knows some _very_ colourful French. Mum told me that if she ever heard such 'filthy and despicable language' come out of my mouth, the repercussions would be so great, that my head would spin." He laughs appreciatively at this, and replies.

"She has obviously never heard you really, really pissed off at somebody before."

"You're right," I tell him, "I am reasonably proud to say that I can swear for 6 hours straight, and never repeat myself once. Ahh the joys of having Fred and George as brothers growing up." He is still chuckling quietly as we walk through the throng of shoes, umbrellas and buckets that litter the front door of the Burrow. As I walk through the bright red door, I am encircled in well-muscled, strong arms, with so many freckles that they almost look tan.

"Charlie!" I shout loudly.

"No need to be so excited, Ginny. You sound like you did when I first came back from Hogwarts!"

"Well, now that I'm old I have to hold onto my youth somehow. What do you do?"

"Play with dragons. It's good to see you, little sister. Happy Birthday." I have to laugh at that answer, the way he said it! See? This is why he is my favourite brother; we share the exact same sense of humour. I mean, I appreciate George's, and totally get it, but… Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

"Hello! Hello! Pleased to welcome you into my (former) home! Refreshments are on the side table, cold drinks are wherever Mum deigned to place them. Now, if you do not mind, I must go and wrap my sister, Ginerva's, 21st birthday present. I haven't seen her in so long, that I probably wouldn't recognise her if I saw her, not to mention that Harry person who she lives with. Must be going, toodles!" He walks upstairs, towards his and Fred's old bedroom. I think that he was serious about wrapping my present!

"Sorry about him," Angelina stage whispers to us, "He told me on our way here to go along with him. I'm pretty sure that he has a dummy of you, Ginny, when you were 11, to act as 'Ginerva'. Harry, he may or may not have one of you at age 12 also." I like Angelina, she is quite funny and now that Fred is no longer here, George bounces off of her, and I think that that is wonderful. Harry excuses himself in order to go and find Ron.

"Anyway, Ginny, Happy 21st Birthday! Oh! Look at that necklace! It's absolutely exquisite! Come, come. Penny, Lucy, Fleur, Hermione and I need to talk to you." I bet that it's one of those 'Now You Are 21' speeches, or in Hermione's case, lecture. I walk upstairs with Angelina into my room, and find all of my sister-in-laws already there. Oh gosh, I am the last Weasley left unmarried. I knew this, of course; I just simply hadn't thought on it.

"Now that you are 21, Ginny," Ha! Look, I was right. "Do you want to marry Harry?" Starts Penny, tactful as usual.

"Yes." This is one thing that I am absolutely sure of. They all look vaguely surprised. "But not just yet. I am not ready. I don't want to rush into it, I love him and I want to spend the rest of my life with him, but I'm not ready." They all nod knowledgeably, like this is _exactly_ how they felt.

"Ok, well, we being the nosy sister-in-laws that we are, just wanted to know. Hey, do you want to come with Charlie and me on a garden hunt on Wednesday? He wants a garden like the one here. I don't have green fingers, but we'll manage. There are charms for it, and Charlie knows quite a few. Molly had him doing the garden when he was a kid." I always loved going out to the garden to watch Charlie work. But, what on earth does having 'green fingers' mean?

"Lucy, what in Merlin's great name does having green fingers mean?" Thank-you Angelina!

"It means having the knack for gardening, which I do not have." I still don't really get it. Oh well.

"Thanks Lucy," I say, "I would love to come. You aren't really bringing Charlie are you?" Even though it would be his garden, he would choose the weirdest plants.

"Course I am." She says cheerily.

"I don't believe you!" I singsong before walking back downstairs to say hello to everybody else.

~Later~

Mum made my favourite dessert! It's like chocolate pie, with melted marshmallow on top. So good. I suppose that I'm not really all that surprised that Mum made it, as it _was_ my birthday party. George and Ange got me a hugeantic box of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and an apology note for the Wheezes (Evidently from Ange), and enough chocolate for a month. Charlie and Lucy got me the pair of new Chaser gloves that I've been wanting for awhile (meaning, of course, that I have been salivating over them every time I walk down Diagon Alley). Hermione got me a Muggle book, called Pride and Prejudice, by some dead person called Jane Austen. Ron tried to pretend that it was from him as well. Mum and Dad got me a recipe book. Never mind that she tried and failed to teach me the culinary art form; Harry can use the recipe book. Perce, Penny, Peighton and Paige, Pieter, and babies Petra, Pascale and Phoebe, whoa that's a lot of names, all gave me a cot. Paige's old cot, to be precise. Yes, a cot. For babies. I was semi horrified, Ron fell off his chair, laughing. And Harry's face was priceless. Bet mine was worse, though. Mum's face was the picture of happiness. Everyone else just found it comical. Bill and Fleur gave me a normal present; - thank goodness- goggles for quidditch. Really, a baby cot? What do they think I'm up to? Surely they know that I'm waiting till after matrimony. Ah well. At least when I finally need it, it'll be there.

**I like this chapter **** it's one of my favourites, and I hope you enjoyed it.**

**-Chocolate Fishy**


	7. We Love Lucy!

**The sign mentioned is an actual sign that Thisisforyou found in the local plant-shop, and she felt the need to write it immediately. It fits in perfectly with Lucy and Charlie (she has appointed herself as Lucy), and is very funny. I hope you like it as much as I do. NOTE: It has been re-edited by the author! Yaaay! I think that it is just that little bit more fabulous now.**

~Chapter 7~

~Wednesday~

Written by Thisisforyou, in Lucy's Point Of View.

The mall was packed with Muggles rushing to and fro in a blind panic. Muggles always seemed panicked to me; running from point A to point B as if they had an Erumpent on their tail. A boy of eleven or twelve zoomed past me; apparently wearing fat shoes equipped with wheels, and almost knocked me off my feet. Before I had a chance to react, I was encased in strong, freckled arms holding me tight, a warm, board body pressed against my back.

"I'm alright." I told him, wrapping my arms over his, and returning his embrace.

"I know you are," he replied in his deep, clear voice, kissing the top of my head. "You can look after yourself."

"Mmm, but it's much more fun when you do it for me," I told him teasingly. Charlie Weasley let me go, spun me around to face him, and kissed me, hard. I basked in the warmth from his stocky chest and buried my hands in his curly hair.

"Do you two ever separate?" The voice that spoke was scathing, although the person who spoke with it had recently spent as much time wrapped around Mr. Harry Potter as I did around my husband. We broke apart reluctantly, smiling at the newcomers, Ginny and the five-and-a-half year old daughter of my second-eldest brother-in-law, Paige. The latter looked awkward as she smiled at me embarrassedly. Charlie put his hand on my hip and I, unconsciously, leaned back into him.

"Nope." Ginny rolled her eyes in a Molly-ish way.

"So, Luce, why a garden shop? Do you have to fix it after playing around it all morning?" The slightly vulgar humour that she borrows from Bill occasionally was not wasted on Charlie.

"That's something Bill would say! Stop spending time with him, he's rubbing off on you."

"Yes, well your mother _tried_ to 'fix' the garden and just ended up trashing it with her pruning shears. She was too busy watching Charlie and I baking cookies to pay any attention." I told Charlie. Ginny laughed, and because her favourite Aunty Ginny was laughing, Paige laughed.

"Are you insulting my mother?" It wasn't really a question. And Charlie's voice was devoid of all real anger.

"Of course not, love. You know I admire your mother. She's so… Motherly. If I had seven children, I wouldn't be able to raise them as wonderful as you all are." I wondered if I was putting my foot in my mouth a little, but the looks on their faces didn't say. Charlie frowned slightly.

"Do you want kids?" He asked, his beautiful green eyes concerned. I looked back, my heart spilling over with love for him.

"One day," I told him softly, "But right now I'm happy just being me and you." He grinned and gave my hip a little squeeze. I kissed him lightly, and pulled away slightly as Ginny groaned. She hadn't really thought that I'd bring Charlie. But I promised her.

"Right. We are going in." She said, as if there could be no more time possibly wasted. "Harry and I are going to plant a tree to celebrate moving in together." I smiled at her. It was so obvious that she felt exactly the same way about Harry as I did about Charlie.

"So how's school, Paige?" I asked her as we walked into the outdoor part of the shop. She beamed.

"I love it! But Peighton can't seem to get the addition. Dad grounded her because she made all the school books get scribbled on. But I really want to learn magic, not go over three-plus-two-equals-five eighty zillion times, but Daddy -"

"Said that you had to learn Muggle School first, yeah, I'll bet he did, old Perce." Said Charlie reminiscently. He slipped his hand into mine.

Fifteen minutes later, Ginny had aptly chosen a young passionfruit tree, we had found some shrubs and we were on our way out of the shop when I spotted a little sign; the sort that people use to mark out their vegetable patches.

"Oh, Charlie, look!" I exclaimed as if it were a dear little dog, or cat. He looked at it, then me.

_Worms Have Sex Here_, the sign read in little cutesie writing. He snorted. I picked up our interlocked fingers with my free hand and stroked the back of his hand.

"Can we? Please? For the garden?"

He gave me a sceptical look that I knew said that he wanted it too; he just didn't want to admit it to anyone but me. I lifted my head and stared into his eyes. I gave him a small but beatific smile. He let out the breath that he had been unconsciously holding, and laughed.

"Can you imagine what Mum would say?" He sounds positively delighted at the thought.

"Grand-mummy would shout, like at Un-kool Jorge." George thought it would be funny a while back to get the Weasley kids to pronounce his name drastically wrong. To say that it backfired would be an understatement.

"Yes, darling." He let go of my fingers as I ran to pay excitedly. I heard Ginny sigh, and put her rather heavy-looking tree down behind me. Paige giggled and shrieked as Charlie swung her around him; Percy hates it when we do that.

"Well, we do have a lot of worms in our garden." Charlie said reasonably, as he put Paige down.

"Uncle Charlie, what does the sign say?"

"Here, read it and remember it. Ask your Daddy what it means. Mention Uncle George." I returned to them triumphantly, brandishing my sign. I'd refused a bag.

"Do you want the whole world to see that sign?" Charlie asked, incredulous. I nodded happily.

"Fair enough." He laughed, taking my hand once more as we walk out of the shop, him carrying both shrubs. I looked back and saw Ginny with Paige on her hip struggling to keep the tree balanced; I cast a quick balancing charm. She smiled gratefully at me.

An hour later, we sat at a table in Angelina and Alicia's café.

"It's our anniversary next Tuesday." I informed Charlie again. He smiled, his hand on mine across the table. Bill always remarked that we never left the 'New Couple' stage of always needing to be touching, holding hands or leaning on each other.

"Molly will probably want to throw a party."

He grinned. "Yes, and Mum'll probably decide that I desperately need a haircut…" he joined in the game.

"Uh-huh, and she'll probably make it brutally short, and I'll have to re-grow it for you…" We laughed.

"Ah, she's so predictable." He said fondly. "And terrible at haircutting." He adds on.

"Are you insulting my Mother-In-Law?" I teased, stroking his hand softly.

"Of course not, darling. You know I love your mother-in-law." He replied.

"You have to, she's your mother." I reminded him, laughing. He shrugged, the game over. Between us, the sign fell over. I picked it up again and propped it between our empty coffee cups so that it screamed to an all-too-serious world, _Worms Have Sex Here._

**Constructive criticism (my former English teacher's favourite phrase) is welcomed and appreciated; reviews are a good way of doing this! I will forward all reviews onto the author, and they are always welcomed with a grin. :)**

**-Chocolate Fishy**


	8. Shoes!

**This is continued from where Thisisforyou left off, but written by me! Enjoy!**

~Chapter 8~

~Wednesday~

Continued in Ginny's point of view.

They keep looking at Paige and me. I wonder what, or whom, they are talking about. Oh, they're leaving.

"Aunty, where are Aunty Lucy and Uncle Charlie going?" When is Lucy going to have a kid? I want another niece.

"I don't know, Paige. Finish your drink, then we can go shopping if you like."

"Ooo, Ginny, Penny won't like you aiding and abetting Paige in her shoe obsession. Can I come? I'm due for a break." I passed my shoe obsession onto Paige. Penny hates it. Ange thinks that it's funny.

"Sure, Angelina."

"Aunty Angelina, why won't Mummy like you and Aunty Ginny taking me to Shoe Shops?" Ange and I look at each other, silently agreeing who tells her. Angelina gets the job.

"Because, your first word was 'shoe' and your Mummy secretly wanted it to be 'Mum'. Don't worry, it isn't your fault. Aunty Ginny and I made you a shoe mobile, and encouraged you to say it whenever we could. We were the geniuses to introduce you to shoes." Angelina explains. She sounds smug.

"So when I own 400 pairs of shoes, I'll know who to blame?" She asks in a mock-innocent voice.

"Yes!" I trill happily. "I will be so very proud of you! Are you done?"

"Almost. What was Peighton's first word? I bet that it was 'Handbag'." I wish that I had a twin. They know each other so well! And they look the same, so they can trick people.

"Actually, you are right. But that is entirely Aunty Lucy's fault." She thought that if Paige had shoes, Peighton needed handbags. That way, put together, they will always have plenty of accessories.

Several hours later

"Honey! I'm home!" I call as I step across the threshold. Harry has been home all day, doing paperwork for the department. The other day, he mentioned this in passing to Hermione, and she said "Oh, so it _is_ data assimilation, then?" Ha! The look on his face was priceless; he had no clue at all what she was talking about. Anyway, I Google searched it, and it came up with a page from a website saying that it had something to do with collecting data, then processing it somehow to make it more accurate. So, all in all, Hermione was right, but it was worth the confusion to see the look on Harry's, face. Anyway, back to the task at hand. What was I doing? Ah, yes. Showing Harry my purchases. I walk into his study and sit on the arm of the huge, squishy comfortable armchair that he won't let me have.

"Gin! Hello. What did you get? Lucy came to show off that worm sign, and she told me that you were at Alicia and Ange's Café. I deduced that you, Paige and Ange together equals shopping. See, I'm not head of the Auror department for nothing." He sound ridiculously proud, do not laugh, do not laugh, do not laugh, damn it; I laughed.

"How am I supposed to stay calm when you go round saying things like that? Nice detective work. Did you like Lucy's sign?" I leave my many bags on the armchair, and walk over to sit on Harry's lap.

"Yes. I'm sure that Molly will just _love_ to see it at Charlie and Lucy's house next month for the family dinner. I suggested that she not tell Molly before then, and put it in a prominent place for the dinner. You know, so that we can all watch the show. Suffice to say, Lucy agreed." He sounds rather smug. I know a way to wipe that sexy smirk off his face; show him my shopping. There are only a few bags. Well, less than Ange has.

"Do you want to see my shopping, now?" He nods, and I get up again to grab my bags. "Well, I got this dress, for the formal dinner that the M.O.M. is having. You, as HOD for the Auror's get to go, and I, as a) your Girlfriend, and b) star chaser for the Harpies, get to go also." It's a beautiful dress, Munroe green cotton, but still silky and gorgeous. It's just above the knees with a low rounded back, and belted thinly at the waist. I got it at some Muggle shop; Coggles, I think it was. It was in York, Angelina said that she found it while visiting a friend, and that we simply _had_ to go there.

"Vivienne Westwood! Gosh, Gin. It's a good thing that you are the second highest paid quidditch star, Vivienne Westwood is one of the most famous British designers." Oh. Well, he is right about it being a good thing that I get paid so much. Really, it's no wonder that I get recognised so much; I'm the face of that wonder-witch cosmetics range, the Harpies are at the top of the league, and our whole team practically gets paid to go out in public. I would compare it to the fame that a Muggle Actress receives.

"Oh, whoops. Well, it _is_ completely gorgeous. Anyways, I also got some new shoes, not for the dress. I will wear stilettos with that. They are beautiful, and they were cheap, only £50." They are black roped-heel wedges that tie with a bow at the ankle. I was planning on wearing them with my white cotton pants and one sleeved draped black top to the Harpies end-of-season gala.

"They are nice." Harry comments, as I stare at them. I place them back in the box, and sit back down on his lap.

"I honestly cannot be bothered showing you anymore of my shopping. I'm exhausted. I'll just tell you what Paige and Ange got. I brought Paige some cute purple sandals, and 'high-heel' boots that are an inch high. Ange got two pairs of shoes, I am glad that I fit her shoes; they're pretty. She also got a dress for the ministry thing. George got an invite as one of the 'most prominent shop owners in Diagon-alley' to use the exact wording. Naturally, Ange is his date. I had so much fun. Paige insisted that if she got two pairs of shoes, then Peighton needed two handbags. So, we got one midnight blue and sparkly, the other a bright purple fluffy, circular one. Penny was… annoyed at Ange and me when we dropped Paige off. I can't imagine why." I finish with a cheeky smile.

"Mmm, it couldn't possibly have anything to do with you and Ange passing your shopping bug onto her daughters?" He says quietly into my ear as he plays with my hair.

"Could be. You have no idea how nice you playing with my hair feels." I think that I will go and play with Percy and Penny's Pieter tomorrow. And George and Ange's son, Freddy, and Alicia Spinnet and Lee Jordan's son, Ben. They are all the same age, and are the best of friends. We can all go to that Muggle park that I like. I wonder if Penny gets sick of me stealing her kids all the time? I voice this thought.

"She probably likes you taking one or two of them off her hands. Five is a lot of kids."

"It is. I don't want five. Three would be good. I want twins." He nods. The silence is comfortable, the kind that doesn't need to be filled with nonsensical chatter.

"Gin, tomorrow evening you are free. I'm going to take you on a proper date, Muggle style. Ok?" That sounds wonderful.

"That sounds good. I'm going to have a quick shower before we go to the Burrow for dinner." I get up from his lap, and walk towards the shower. I'm so tired, a shower sounds so nice.

~later that night~

At Ron and Hermione's house

_Knock knock..._ Come on! I know you're in there, I saw you walk through the door not 30 seconds ago. They had a pretty major fight at dinner. Something about how Hermione wants a baby and Ron isn't ready for one. They were screaming and screaming at one another before having a full-blown duel, as usual. Hexes were flying, and spells were being cast. It was almost like something from one of those Muggle picture thingies. Mum looked gobsmacked. I don't think that she has seen a real Ron and Hermione fight like that. Really, compared to the 'Lover's Spat' they had when everybody from her year, and my year went back (They had to enlarge the classrooms) today's fight was nothing. Their big fight was spectacular; it was in the middle of the great hall, and came about because Hermione refused to pass Ron the chocolate pudding. It was massive, not even Flitwick, McGonagall, or Big Bill, who was, and still is, the DADA teacher, could stop them. Apparently, they had each become rather accomplished at Transfiguration, Charms and DADA when they were away with Harry. Although, the years of previous training probably helped. Both of them each received a month's detention for that. Ron got McGonagall, and Hermione got Bill. She said that it wasn't that bad because he let her do whatever, and she got to know him quite well over that time. Anyway, after their fight tonight, Hermione Apparated back to their house, and Ron decided to kip at the Burrow for the night.

"Hermione! Open up! I have rumour and speculation to spread!" Their house is beautiful. It's way out in Kent, right on the cliffs of Dover. It's a little cottage, which is really quite big. It reminds me of Kirin Cottage in Enid Blyton's _The Famous Five_ series. I really love it, but I could never live here.

"Well in that case, welcome in!" she says with a smile as she opens the door. She's probably forgiven Ron already; she just wants to see him sweat. Some may call me a minx, but Hermione can be a Slytherin when she wants to be. A bit like Harry, in that way.

"So, spill. Last time you got loose lipped, Honey, I found out that you loved one Mr. H. Potter." She has got to be kidding! She's not allowed to bring that up!

"Uh-huh. Ok… so, guess what."

"What?" Duh! She's supposed to guess!

"Guess."

"You are engaged. Down, Shay. Gosh, that dog can't keep still for more than three seconds."

"Nope. Guess again."

"Oh, I don't know. You're pregnant?" What!

"No! How did you come to that conclusion?" She shrugs, still stroking Shay. "I'll just tell you. Harry invited me on a Muggle romantic date. I think that he's going to propose to me!"

"Eeeeeeeeeeeek!" Again, could she scream any louder? It's a good thing the neighbours are so far away. "Oh my goodness, Honey! That's fantastic."

"I know, I know. I'm really quite excited, and will maybe be a tad disappointed if he doesn't. For the past few months, it has been as if we're married already. I'm ready, you know?" She nods her head, tears are pooling in her eyes. I've been praying recently, for wisdom about Harry, and I've just felt peace when I think of my future with him. So, I think that it really is time, in God's plan for me also. "He didn't even ask, he just told me that I'm free tomorrow evening, and he is taking me on a 'Muggle style' date. Do you have any chocolate?" I've said it before, and I'll say it again; I'm hopelessly addicted.

"No, but we do have those mocha sachets that you like. Ron wanted to know what the Hype was about." Typical Ronald Bilius Weasley behaviour. No wonder he hates his middle name. Bilius, what an ugly middle name. It'd probably be ok as a surname, though.

"Brill. And she flicks her wand, and makes her lovely sister-in-law a mug of it because said sister-in-law has had an exhausting day, and can't be bothered." I say, half jokingly, half serious.

"Or, she could flick her _own_ wand, and make it for herself." Hermione retorts without skipping a beat. Being friends with Ron so long has affected her lazy-tolerator.

"Ok, ok. Have you spoken to Ron? I don't think he _means_ to make such a donkey of himself. He just does." He always has and he always will. Hermione should probably just accept it.

"I know. Although, I hope that Molly likes having her married kids stay at home; he might spend a night or two,"

"Cough, six, cough, or ten, cough" I interrupted her. She gave me the 'Uh-oh' glare.

"As I was saying, one or two nights in his old room. You know when your parents look after all the grandchildren, where do they sleep? Do they stay in their father's old rooms? Does Molly conjure extra beds, or…?" That is a good question.

"I don't actually know. But I think that Percy's kids all sleep in his room. Somehow, he managed to get the biggest room out of all of us, including Mum and Dad. To this day, none of us have any clue how he managed to wrangle it. Maybe he has an undetectable extension charm on it. Hey! I should do that to my room!" Yes, I do know that I don't live there, and I even have my own house now - ok, it's technically Harry's house, but we are practically married so it kind of counts.

"Hermione," I continue belatedly, "do you really want kids so badly that you would have one of your famous hex-flinging fights with Ron in front of _Mum_? You need to listen to Ron. If he's not ready, he's not ready. He'll tell you when he is, don't you worry your pretty head. You are 22, Hermione; you both have time." After that little speech, I get up to leave. The last thing I heard before I Apparated was Hermione whispering in tiny, sad words,

"I know."


	9. Sparkles!

**Forget what I said a few chapters ago about it being my favourite chapter; **_this_** is my absolute favourite chapter. It is complete fluff, quite possibly worse than the rest of the entire story, and I adore it. I'm sure you will too.**

~Chapter 9~

"Harry! Where are we going?" We are soaring at top speed, and he looks so happy, with the wind flying through his raven black hair, slightly longer than he usually keeps it. His eyes are sparkling mischievously, something that even those closest to him don't see often. We're travelling on our brooms. Mostly because Harry loves his broom, partly because I still have no clue where we are going. Oh! We are descending. I dip my broom down, and follow Harry towards a small clearing. We land gracefully, thank goodness. Harry hates it when after a long game, I just kind of tumble onto the ground. It makes him _nervous._

"Wait here, Gin. I'm just going to go and set up. There is a really pretty glade just through there." I nod and smile at his turned back. To be honest, I'm still in shock that he knows what a glade is. I hope that if he _does_ propose, he does it in a really clichéd way. Tried and True. A ring around my champagne glass would be wonderful. Ooh, I hope that he brought champagne. I'm pretty sure that we have croissants, and raspberries and strawberries. And ice cream. Basically, sweet food. We both have a little bit of a sweet tooth. Ok, massive sweet tooth in my case.

"Come on, just through here." He leads me through a gap in the bushes that I'm sure wasn't there a second ago. I gasp slightly when I see it; it is simply beautiful. He has laid the pale blue and white large checked picnic blanket in the middle of the small glade surrounded by those hot pink miniature roses. On the blanket, there is a huge picnic basket, and two champagne glasses, filled with champagne, and each with a strawberry in it.

"Goodness, Harry this is _beautiful_! It's absolutely perfect! How did you know it was here? Oh, the roses are so pretty!" I gush. Eww, I _never_ gush. Mum, she is the queen of gushing. Me, _je goush jamais. Jamais_. Harry raises one brow at me.

"Why so enthusiastic?" He smirks, "What do you want? Chicken sandwich or ham sandwich? Or we could skip the sandwiches, and go straight on to dessert."

"Dessert." He knows me too well; I bet he didn't even pack sandwiches.

"Ok, Ice-Cream, or normal cream?" Mmm, I love Ice Cream.

"Ice-Cream. Did you pack drink? Not the likes of Firewhiskey, the Muggle stuff."

"Of course. When I was little, Aunt Petunia was hosting a dinner party for Uncle Vernon's boss at the time. She served Champagne, real French stuff they were given for Christmas the year prior. She served it with strawberries, and I always thought that it looked nice, so that's what I brought." Strange, really, how Petunia influenced Harry. For somebody that he has resented most of his life, she has made a strong impression on him, whether he knows it or not.

"That sounds really good, actually. I love Champagne." They had it at Ron and Hermione's wedding. Harry and I got absolutely _smashed_ on it. Him quicker than I. He can't hold his drink, bless him. Hermione and Ron had already left, so it really turned into a Weasley party, rather than a Weasley/Granger wedding with Muggles.

"Remember Ron and Hermione's wedding Gin? That was funny."

"Yeah, remember the look on Hermione's face when they got home and she discovered how drunk we got? She was appalled, not to mention Mum. _She _was scandalised." Mum's reaction was hilarious. She could honestly not believe that her baby boy was married, and her baby girl was absolutely pished with her 'adopted' son. She went mental, and all we could do was laugh! Harry ended up sleeping in Ron's room at the Burrow, because he couldn't Apparate home.

"Yeah," He laughs. "At least one of them got a kick out of it. Ron thought it was hilarious." We carry on in this fashion for a few hours, before I fall asleep, my head resting on his chest. When I woke up, the picnic had disappeared, leaving only sparklingly clean champagne flutes and some chocolate (Milk chocolate with a gooey caramel centre, you'll be pleased to know) remained. It's almost 9pm, according to Harry's watch.

"Harry, it's time to wake up." I don't actually really want to leave just yet.

"Ginny? I wasn't asleep. I have a surprise for you. Follow me," He leads me back through into an open field, taking the bubbly and chocolate.

"Look up." He says, simply. I do, and when I did, I am met with the most beautiful sight. The heavens were spread out above us, the stars millions of tiny, glittering dots, seemingly different colours against the inky midnight blue sky. The exact colour that tames my vibrant orange hair, and dulls it to a glistening auburn. A tame fire, as Harry would call it. My wedding is no longer red and gold; it's silver, white and midnight blue. I turn to face Harry, and see his brilliant jade orbs gazing into mine. He kneels to the ground, and takes my hand.

"Ginny, will you do me the immense honour of marrying me?" I just know that I have a stupid grin on my face, but I just can't bring myself to care properly.

"Yes, a million times over. I would love to be your wife! I love you so…" He never got to hear how much I loved him, as he had grabbed my face gently, and pressed his lips to mine in a kiss so passionate that I forgot who I am. And where we were, and other such like things.

"I love you too, Gin. I can't believe it went this well, I was sure that I'd trip, or stutter, or something." In reply to this, I simply stretch my grin wider, if possible.

"Well, y'didn't, and I'm glad. The sky is so pretty, I love that colour blue."

"Well that's good, do you want your ring?" I nod spastically, and he opens a pretty, deep blue ring box to revel a beautiful white gold, thin band with a classic raised, inset, round-cut Sapphire, the exact colour of the velvety night sky. Beside the deep blue stone are two small inset diamond baguettes, sparkling like stars.

"It was my Mother's; I found it in the family vault. We can get you a different one if you like…"

"No, I would _love_ to wear your Mother's ring. It is beautiful; it's the colour of the sky."

"The ring and the sky are pretty, but you outshine them by far." Aww! That's so sweet!

"Flattery will get you everywhere, m'dear." I lean in, and kiss him soundly. He takes my hand, and touches my ring lightly.

"I like how it looks on you." He says.

"Good; it's never coming off." I smile. All too soon, our night is over. We Apparate home, Harry already have taken the brooms and basket home while I was asleep. An hour later, and I am lying in my cold bed, not sleeping. I climb out of bed and tiptoe into Harry's room, where I snuggle up next to his warm, sleeping form. This is where I belong.

**AWWW! I chose "will you marry me?" rather than phrases like 'will you be my wife' etc. etc. because I reckon that it's cheesetacular, and just a simple "will you marry me?" is so much better. Did I do them justice? Let me know! By the way, **_**follement**_** is French for crazily, madly, wackily. I haven't been translating all the French that I've randomly popped in, but Google Translate will give you an approximation of what is being said.**

**-Chocolate Fish**


	10. Balloonarama and MOCHAS!

**Now to tell the whole fam-dam-ily. Good Luck Ginny. **** Enjoy!**

~Chapter 10~

~Next day, after Harpies practice~

"Team," Gwenog started, "Tomorrow is the big game. We can win it, we've done it before, but I don't want any of you going in there cocky, _Chloe_." She says, looking pointedly at Chloe Titus, our ridiculously strong second Beater. A Hufflepuff fresh outta Hogwarts. Chloe has an ongoing bet with her long-time boyfriend, and Puddlemere Seeker, Gethro Purvis. The bet is that the Harpies will win every game this season. So far, it's happened, and we don't have all that many games left. "Bridget, I need you to work on your spiral curl saves, they could do with just a tad more spring. I know you can do it, just… do it." Gwenog continues, looking at the medium height, black haired beauty all dressed up in keeper pads. Meet Bridget Muthumala. Sri Lankan-turned-English goddess whose speciality is being the kind of annoying that you adore. She was in Charlie and Lucy's year at Hogwarts- Ravenclaw. Absolutely Fabulous at drawing, and she's the second most famous Harpies team member. Mostly because she's both amazing at her keeper position, and supermodel gorgeous. Crap, I'm late. "Anyway," Gwenog starts again, "we know that we _can_ beat them, but that doesn't mean that -" If somebody doesn't shut her up now, we'll be here forever.

"Gwenog, we know. Puddlemere United are good, but we are better as long as we don't get too cocky. Can we pretty-please-with-coffee-on-top go now, Luce and I are late." In fact, _that close_ to being late for a family dinner at the Burrow. Lucy's sweet, she is almost never late, no thanks to Charlie-Boy. I, however, have been late on more than one occasion. Even when I lived there, I was still late. Anyway, if I'm late again, Mum'll kill me. Realisation dawns on Gwenog's face; she has heard all about my mother from Bill, who was in the same year and house at Hogwarts.

"Sure, you two can go." She says. Two seconds later, and Lucy has Apparated directly off of the Pitch. _Malheureusement, je ne suis pas ça chance_. I am attacked.

"Ginny!" Miranda Tilliard, the final chaser. She was the same year as Gred and Forge, but was in Ravenclaw. She always says that she fell in love at age 10… with Quidditch. Such a romantic. Although, despite being Siriusly unlucky in love, she does have a steady boyfriend. Heh. Siriusly … Seriously. I'm just that funny. Anyway, back to the moment.

"Ginny!" She squeals again. Till's a little bit… loud. "Is that a ring? So that's the blinding sparkle that I kept seeing up in the air! Oh! Gosh, that's fan_tas_tic!" She's started a mini revolution. The whole team, minus Lucy who's escaped, and Katey Wood (yes, Oliver Wood's baby sister) who is 'too cool' (or not…) for that, were all yanking on my arm, trying to see the 'rock' resting on my finger.

"Guys! Stop it! I'm sorry to announce an engagement and run, but Mum'll kill me if I'm late again. I'm being serious; you've all met my Mother. Bye!" I need to get out of here A.S.A.P. I'll just have a shower at home. I Apparate directly into our bedroom, as there is no Floo here, and lean my broom against the wall. Harry walks out of the wardrobe, pulling a dark green t-shirt over his head.

"Gin, quick, have a shower. We have approximately 3 seconds before we're late." He says. Crappendoodle.

"Going, going," I mutter back, stripping off my Quidditch robes and walking into the bathroom, and into the shower. The thing about having 6 brothers is that I learnt very quickly to have very quick showers, and to snag them first. I'm out a few minutes later, feeling much cleaner, and fresher. What should I wear? OMG! I have nothing to wear! What shoes? Not my sneakers, _obviously_, uh… Oh! My WWW t-shirt (It says 'Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes' on the first line, then on the line below it, 'Wonderfully Worldly Whatsits' in white and red college-style block letters. Very cool) with my grey skinnies aaand… No. That's too casual. Not my LBD, that's too formal. What to wear!

"Harry! What should I wear?" I shout, walking through to the kitchen where he is sitting at the table reading the Quibbler. He's wearing a nice forest green t-shirt, jeans and his only pair of non-beat up sneakers. The t-shirt fits him really well, not too tight, but… nice. Very sexy, it shows off his biceps. He has come a loooong way from the skinny little eleven-year-old from the Hogwarts Express.

"Gawdy, I sound horribly like Lucy." I say aloud, by complete accident. He gives me a look that makes me want a camera.

"What? Actually, I don't want to know. Well, this is what I'm wearing, so… Uh, what about your new red pumps with your white skinnies and a t-shirt? A green one, so we are all cute-couple-matchy-matchy, as Ange would put it."

"My WWW t-shirt? Harry, you know me and my mind altogether too well." Just as I say this, I realise that I'm wearing nothing but my matching Bra and Knickers set. Nice ones, crimson red and Lacy. Fleur gave them to me, actually. I remember being curious, and worried, as to how she knew my cup size. Harry must have noticed too, because he flushes Weasley red and all but pushes me back to the closet saying;

"Go, go. We need to… go." And walks back to his paper. I hunt out my white jeans and shoes, chuck on my tee, and fix my hair, which is starting to curl already, into a loose-messy bun, and put on my favourite cherry earrings, and walk back out.

"Done! Better than my lingerie?" I give him a twirl, trip on my feet, and stumble onto a chair. "Whoa. I'm fine, fine. I'm fine." He grins.

"No, no, I love the Lacy look. Your brother's however, may not be too crazy on it." He laughs, and grabs my bright red trench coat, and his black zip-up coat. "Come on, let's get to the Burrow." We walk out the door, and link our arms, walking one leg over the other. Giggling, I walk first through the cute picket-y gate Dad installed into the gap in the hedge, and look over to the yard space.

"Look, Bill and Charlie are making the tables battle like they did when we were younger. Harry, do you reckon that Perce will stick his head out the window and yell at them to shut-the-bloody-hell-up?"

"Maybe, but it won't be for a cauldron bottoms report, if you get my drift!" He laughs. I love it when he laughs properly. It's a sound that those who love him don't see as often as we would like to.

"Harry!" I give him a friendly shove. He just laughs in response.

"Ginny! Harry!" Lucy shouts to us as she runs over. "I didn't tell anybody," She continues quieter. "I figured that you were going to tell everybody tonight. By the way Ginny, Marie, you remember her? My nosy 68-year-old neighbour who's husband died last year of cancer. Anyway, she said to tell you to tell Harry to say "Hi, darling" to Teddy." She says this extremely quickly in almost a whisper, earning her a questioning look from Ron. I, however, get a glance, only a glance, from my betrothed. Can't get good help these days.

"The girlies at Quidditch saw the 'blinding sparkle'." I quickly explain.

"No, don't believe her, Harry. I just know everything." Lucy contradicts. Don't believe _me_? Honestly.

"I shall leave the two of you to decide who's the most trustworthy. Bearing in mind, Ginny, that it was Lucy whom I consulted about whether or not you'd like the ring." And with that, he excuses himself to go and talk to Ron.

"So _do_ you like his grandmother's ring then?" I nod enthusiastically,

"Yes! Of course. I adore it. My colours are going to be velvety midnight blue, silver and white." What's for dinner? I'm starving. I haven't eaten anything since breakfast, and it's now almost 7:00pm. That makes for a very hungry girlie.

"I'm hungry, Ginny. I like those colours. What's for eating?" Oh yeah. She's definitely distracted. Oh. Charlie just took his shirt off. To clean it, apparently, it got 'dirt' on it. That explains it.

"He's just so… so… so… Hot. There is no other word to describe how gorgeously hot your second eldest brother is, Ginny." Ewww! I thought that I had a pact with all of my sisters-in-law! I don't want to know about the sex, or the hotness, or kissing, or anything like that! They're my brothers, for goodness sake!

"Luuucccyyyy!" I groan,

"Well what do you want me to say? I don't _care_ when _my_ husband takes his shirt off, and reveals his extremely sexy, sexy, _sexy_ abs?" I'm not going to say anything, because it'd only make things worse. And here comes Charlie.

"Put a shirt on, we don't want to see your freckly torso."

"_Au contraire_, dear sister of mine. Lucy here does." Smarty-pants. Though, she is practically drooling.

"Pssh. Go 'way, Charles." Lucy says, voice straining with the sheer will power it takes her not to ravish him right there. Charlie then hugs her tight, and kisses the top of her head, and her entire demeanour changes.

"You're right then, I do want to see your abs." She trails her hand down his front, and snogs him senseless. I back away slowly; I don't want to see that. I think that I will go and show Paige my new shoes. She hasn't seen these ones yet.

"Hey Gin-Gin! Love your t-shirt. Wear it more often, it's good advertising, what with your being so famous and all!" George. He gave me this t-shirt a month ago. He gave everybody one, actually, but I'm the first to wear it. I got Harry to transfigure it to fit me better. He's better at it than I am, which, I suppose, really says something about my transfiguration skills.

"I will, George. Where's Paige?" I ask, shouting the last across the kitchen, as he walked over to the back door.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure that she and Peighton are up with Perce in his room learning about Muggle science. Genetics or something." He calls back, over his shoulder. Gosh, he's tall. Never really thought about it before. Weirdness. Now that I think about it, though, he _is_ shorter than Big Bill and Ron. He, Percy and Charlie are about the same height really. Huh. Genetics, what is Percy thinking.

"Poor Peighton and Paige, ploughing through that perilously pesky paperwork of Percy's." I say to myself, because I'm just awesome like that.

"Nice alliteration, Gin." I whirl around, and there is Harry. I smile and run up to him, grab his face and kiss him slowly, and tenderly. Just cause I can.

"Get a room!" Bill. As if he can talk, he and Fleur are always snogging.

"_Puis-je avoir votre chambre_?" I ask Bill cheekily.

"Nah, that's mine and Fleur's." He replies, not missing a beat despite my swift change of language.

"Grammar, Bill." Penny says softly from across the room, where she is cross-stitching a blanket for Pieter. It has trains, cars, and planes on it. Very Muggle.

"Penny!" I half-shout across to the softly spoken woman, "I didn't even see you there. What's this I hear about Mr Percival teaching _my_ god-daughters Genetics?" I say, mock-accusingly. Paige and Peighton are Lucy's goddaughters also. Perce and Penny decided that they didn't need the over-protectiveness/possessiveness that, and I quote, "God-fathers always provide." Luce and I try to make up for it by referring to them as ours as often as we can. The twins think it's hilarious, their parents, not so much.

"I know, I tried to stop him, they're only five, but… maybe you'd have some luck. You remind him of your mother. Quite frankly, you tend to scare him." She defends. I laugh, long and loud.

"He's… giggle giggle…_scared_…giggle…of me?" She smiles once more, and turns back to her stitching. I turn to face Harry, and see that he has already taken his leave of absence. I shrug and make my way up the hotch-potch staircase, and walking up the two flights of stairs to Percy's old bedroom. I bang open the door; as Lucy's mother says, "If it's not grand, don't make an entrance." Lucy's mother was always saying cool things like that; sadly, she died in the final Battle of Hogwarts. Anywho, I barge into the room, just in time to listen to Dear Percy to give the twins possibly the boooringest question ever.

"See girls, here is a problem. If two cats, one with long hair, the other with short hair, had kittens together, would the kittens be born with short hair, or long hair?" This is followed by a lot of 'ummm…'s.  
"Percy, Percy, Percy. That is perfectly tedious. Here's a _real_ question. If two of Charlie's heterozygous fire-breathing dragons had baby dragons together, what is the chance that the baby dragon, whom Uncle Charlie would also look after, could also breathe fire?" I say.

"Very likely, because Uncle Charlie says that most dragons breathe fire." Paige says reasonably.

"Also, both the mummy dragon, and the daddy dragon breathe fire, so the baby dragon would have a three out of four chance of breathing fire. The bigger chance is the fire-breathing penotope,"

"Phenotype, Peighton." Percy interrupts.

"So they would most likely either be heterozygous, or a dominant gene-d homozygous." She finishes, and smiles a huge grin.

"Right. See Percy? They got that one." Mostly because it had to do with the glorified 'Uncle Charlie', but that's completely beside the point. Ooh! Teddy and Andromeda are here. Victoire will be pleased. I'm no Seer, but I predict that they'll fall in love, and get married, and have 14 little blonde kiddies and live in a shoe. Like the old lady who didn't know what to do. That was my favourite Muggle nursery rhyme as a kid, although I always thought that the old lady was a little bit silly. Maybe she was a Squib.

"Come on Paige, Peighton, That's enough Muggle science-y stuff for now." I say, getting up from the desk chair I was sat at, and stand by the door while they both get up from the bed, where they were seated next to Perce. I usher them forwards, wave goodbye to Perce, and run after them down the stairs.

"Aunty Ginny, did you bring anything for us?" Paige says as soon as I reach the bottom of the stairs. I smile at her, and begin to speak, when Vikki runs up to me, Teddy hot on her tail.

"Ooh! That's a pretty ring, who gave it to you?" She asks, grabbing my right had. I change my ring to the other hand, so as not to draw attention to it.

"Hmm, somebody very special to my heart gave it to me. It's pretty, isn't it? Paige," I turn, facing her, "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't bring anything for you…" Her face drops, and I grin. "Except for these!" I whip a jumbo packet of multi-coloured balloons out of my jean pocket. They all immediately start requesting various colours,

"May I have red, Aunty?"

"Ooh! Green! Green!"

"Aunt Ginny, can I please have blue? To match my hair?" Turquoise Teddy today. My, my; I _do_ have a penchant for alliteration.

"Teddy-Bear, any colour matches your hair" I smile at him. He pulls his patented 'cute' face; I've taught my nieces, nephews and god-son-and-daughter's very well. I am the master of the cute face.

"I s'pose so… Can I have blue anyway?" I just have to laugh at this. He has so much Dora in him.

"Of course you can, darling." I pass out balloons to all of the kids, and helped the younger ones blow them up. Once I'm done, and everyone has at least one balloon, I look up to find an _audience_! Charlie, Bill, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ange and George are all sitting on the steps, and standing next to them, watching me. Weird.

"What?" I ask, most of them just smile and shake their heads. "_What?_" I repeat. This time Big Bill speaks.

"Just watching you play with our kids. Aw, Ginny, sweetheart, you're all growed up!" My Big Bill has gone soft. He gets up from his spot next to Charlie on the bottom step, and hugs me tight like he did when I was a little girl. I love my Big Bill. "And you'll have your own kids, and you'll be a wonderful mother." He continues, apparently he was talking to me while I zoned out.

"Big Bill," I tell him, "thank you. But, you've gone soft since becoming a daddy." He grins back and goes off to round up his balloon popping troublemakers. Just then, Mum walks in, donned in her 'family-dinner' apron.

"Everyone, get your legs moving to the table, dinner is ready." Yum, she made her nice potato salad. "Harry, you there, Ron, no, you sit there. Here you go, Victoire dear. Freddy! You gave me a fright. Too much of your Uncle in you. Teddy darling, have some lettuce. George! Why in the world did you think that giving them 'harmless' fireworks was a good idea?" Ahhh, Mother Mode.

"I didn't," he says. "I just love the look that you give me. Reminds me of my childhood." He grins. Cheeky bugger. Only he could really say something like that and not get his head bitten off. It's a talent, I tell you. Dinner carries on much in this fashion; Mum found six more of Georges Whizbang Wheezes, managed to stop Percy from drinking the Pumpkin juice that Paige successfully slipped the business end of a Puking Pastille into, and brought out still _more_ food. When they were finished eating, all of the kids were sent upstairs to 'go to bed', i.e. play-shout-and-scream-without-being-heard-due-to-Uncle-Ron's-and-Uncle-Harry's-silencing-charms-that-Mum-doesn't-know-about-on-the-walls. Andromeda had gone home, leaving Teddy (who begged and pleaded) to stay for a sleepover with Vikki. All of us 'Adults' and I use the term loosely, had re-convened in the lounge after it got too dark. Most of us are sipping mugs of tea; of course, Lucy and I had retrieved our Mocha stash up in Charlie's room, and made ourselves a mug of it each. Everybody is chatting, and catching up. Despite being a close family, in the hustle and bustle of everyday life, we tend to simply miss one another. Lucy is leaning on Charlie, Bill and Fleur are sprawled together on a couch. Mum and Dad are sitting in their armchairs, but she and Dad are unconsciously angled towards one another. I always think it's sweet, how in love they still are with each other. Ron is sitting on the smaller couch, with Hermione's head in his lap, with him stroking her hair absently. George and Ange are sitting on an armchair; Percy is leaning on the chair Penny is sitting cross-legged in. I'm sitting on Harry, my back against the arm of the slightly-bigger-than-usual armchair that I claimed at the young age of 3. Harry leans down, his mouth against my ear, and whispers to me.

"Hey, put your ring on the other hand, Gin. We'll see who notices first. I bet it is Hermione." I smile; not a chance with the legendary Hawk-Eye Mum in the room.

"Nah, Mum." I whisper back. Twenty minutes later, Mum glances first at Bill and Fleur who are both almost asleep. She looks at Ange and George, who are whispering to one another in between chaste kisses. Aww, they're so cute! She turns to Percy and Penny, who actually are asleep. Turns out six kids can be exhausting. She glances at Ron and Hermione. Hermione's eyes are closed, but she is talking to Ron, who is obviously not listening to the words, but more to the timbre of her voice. Mum looks to Charlie and Lucy. Lucy is talking animatedly to Charlie and me, although, about what, I'm not too sure. I'm _such_ a good listener. Note the sarcasm. Next, Mum looks at me and Harry. I can almost see her eyes bug out.

"Ginny!" Mum shrieks, effectively wakening Perce, Penny, Big Bill, Fleur and making Ron jump up in surprise with his wand out.

"Ronald! Sit down!" Hermione is the only person I know who calls Ron Ronald. Not even Mum does. Bill thinks that it's hilarious.

"Ginny, do you have something that you want to tell us?" Mum says slowly, like I'm in trouble or something. Ha! I _told_ him that Mum'd be the first to notice!

"Harry, get up." He does. Without warning me, of course. I fall off of him, and land on the floor.

"Harry! That hurt!" I moan, rubbing my hip. He picks me up off the ground, and hugs me, kissing the top of my head. Lucy makes gagging noises.

"I'm better than you, Luce. Honestly, drooling just because Charlie-Boy took off his shirt." Mum will be scandalised! I singsong in my head.

"To reveal his extremely gorgeously toned and sexy abs!" Lucy defends herself. Charlie blushes, (blushes!) and Bill sniggers.

"Charlie! I… oh, never mind. What was it that you were going to say, Ginny dear?" Mum shuffles to the front of her seat, clutching Dads hand.

"Well," I start, looking at Harry, who gives me a small, imperceptible by anyone except me, nod to say 'go on, you tell 'em.'

"Mum, Daddy, Family, Harry and I are getting married!" As soon as I say this, Mum, Lucy, Hermione and Ange are quite literally hanging around mine and Harry's necks. Ron is just sitting there, looking rather shell shocked, I must say.

"Ginny! That ezz Wonderful!" Fleur gushes. She's a bit like Mum, and has an inclination to gush.

"Now you won't be living together unmarried!" Mum says, genuinely ecstatic at the idea. I had no clue that it bothered her so much! It's not like anything _happens_.

"Congratulations mate. But, if you hurt her, you're mincemeat." Charlie says, once everybody is sat down once more.

"Thanks so much!" I start, "Lucy, would you be my Maid-of-Honour?" I was going to ask Hermione, but really, I'm closer to Lucy.

"I'd love to, Ginny." She smiles softly.

"Hermione?" I ask, "Will you be one of my bridesmaids?" She nods, being lost for words as she is. This is a very proudifying moment. I struck her speechless.

"Ange? What do you say?" I smile hopefully at her. I'll ask Luna to be my last Bridesmaid, I think.

"Sure." She smiles and shrugs. "Wait, I won't have to wear _pink_ will I? I don't do pink." Trust Angelina…

"Don't worry, Hun, neither do I. Weasley hair." I grin hugely. I'm so happy! I love my family.

**Wow. Over 3000 words! How was that? Review and let me know!**


	11. Quoting Wikipedia

**And we are back, with chapter 11! Sit back, relax, and enjoy the story****.**

~Chapter 11~

It is Saturday afternoon. Where would Luna be, after only getting back from Brazil a week ago? Well, I'd be at a coffee shop, but that's just me. She wouldn't be at home, Rolf's not there. Not the office… Maybe she _is_ at a coffee shop… Ange's café! _*pop!*_ and I'm here. I love this café, the chairs and tables are very mixed and matched, and the couches have decorative patches and the walls are all bright colours, with quotes (courtesy of mine and Lucy's extensive quote collection) written in everybody in our family's handwriting. There are pictures drawn by all the kids on the walls, and customers are encouraged to draw on the walls. It's very fun, and homey. It's nice. Popular too, it's right across the road from WWW, actually, where Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream parlour used to be before he disappeared mysteriously. He was presumed dead after the final battle, and so the store was resold. He's never come forward to claim it, so… Anyway, I walk over to the counter, and sit at one of the high barstools. You know, this looks familiar…

"Hey, Alicia, do you know where Ange got this stool?" I ask the tall, statuesque brunette.

"I have no clue, sorry. Why? Is it yours?" She laughs. I grin back, and ask her if Luna was there. Alicia nods, and points over to the couch by the back window. Humming a merry show tune (Muggle; Cats, I think), I skip over.

"Luna! There you are! I've been looking for you. I have a question to ask you, actually." I say, sitting down on the couch next to her, and pulling my legs up so that I face her, kicking off my casual black pumps (that I had paired with white skinnies and a navy boat necked top) and turning to face her.

"Really? I've something to tell you also." She says, picking up her cup of tea and sipping it. I'm hoping that what she has to say is not in actual fact as ominous as it sounds. Hey! Maybe she's pregnant! No, probably not.

"Ok. Luna, guess what. Harry proposed to me the other night! Of course, I said yes, anyway, will you be one of my bridesmaids?" Weird, I'm kinda nervous. Please say yes…

"I would love to, Ginny. Are you going to wear yellow? Daddy always says that sun colours should always be worn at a wedding." I know, Luna. You mention this fact every wedding.

"No, it's going to be midnight blue, white and silver themed. But, if you really want, I'll put a sunflower in your bouquet. What were you going to tell me?" I reply, tilting my head in curiosity at what she's going to say.

"A sunflower would be nice. Well, Rolf just discovered a lead on the rare animal. A Muggle one; Moa? They think that it's extinct, but Rolf has a lead. He's going to New Zealand for a month, leaving next week." Since Luna got married, she has become a tad bit more sensible. Her voice is just as dreamy as ever, but more sensible. Wait, New Zealand? Is that a place in Australia or something? Somewhere in that area of the world, isn't it? I voice this thought to Luna.

"No," She shakes her head, curly blonde hair flying around, "No, it's a country. 'New Zealand is an island country in the south-western Pacific Ocean comprising two main landmasses, the North Island and the South Island, and also Stewart Island and the Chatham Islands.'"

"Was that a quote, Luna?" I ask, it sounds like it, but what could she possibly be quoting?

"Yes, Muggle webby-site. Wikipedia. My father brought a Muggle com-put-er thing, and when Rolf said New Zealand, I searched on the intynet for it." Okay. Wow, Rolf's been home for one week, and now he's going away again for a whole month. I need caffeine.

"I'm going to get some coffee; do you want some, Luna?" Alicia makes a better mocha than Ange does, but Ange's cappuccino is legendary. Ironic, considering that she "hates the stuff". They're both better than George and Lee though, who can cook anything and everything, but can't make a good pot of coffee.

"No, thank-you. I have to go; the dillywigs seem to have found me. Bye bye." She floats out through the door in her usual dreamy fashion. I get up and sit at the pub-style bar.

"Hey Alicia, Can I pretty please-with-coffee-on-top have a mochaccino? And a piece of chocolate cake? Please?" Alicia is one of the few people to have refused to serve me before, stating that I come to her shop too often. This, of course, is only marginally true. Ok, it's blaringly truthful. Time to pull out the big guns: puppy-dog eyes.

"Ok. They'll be done in a minute. You want your cake warmed and with chocolate ice-cream and sauce?" She asks, smiling at how my hopelessly pleading expression turned instantly to one of radiant happiness as soon as she said 'ok', 'cake', 'chocolate' and 'ice-cream' in the same sentence. I nod, not quite able to form words of gratitude. I focus on keeping my mouth closed instead. Three minutes later she returns with cake and coffee, be still my heart, and sets it on the counter, though not without a word of warning.

"If you ever have a heart attack on premises, our establishment bears no responsibility whatsoever." I smile, and tuck the hair falling into my eyes behind my ear. With my left hand.

"Ginny! Oh my giddy Aunt Gilda!" she shrieks, darting round the counter and grabbing my hand and yanking it right out of its socket. Somehow, I can't bring myself to be upset; I'm just that happy! Wait, giddy Aunt Gilda?

"I know I know! It's so exciting, and he asked so romantically!" I say. She hugs me tight,

"I am so happy for you two. I can't believe that little Harry, the baby new seeker on our team, is engaged. To be married! Have you told Oliver yet? He'll freak. He'll never admit it, but Harry's like his little brother. I mean, Oliver taught him how to play Quidditch, even! Oh! How did Ron react?" She says, walking back around the counter. I laugh and take a drink of coffee, and a bite of cake, before replying.

"It was hilarious; he just sat there, completely gobsmacked. I think that he was actually _surprised_. I talked to Harry about it later, I mean, we already lived together, what reason was there for him to be surprised. Harry just said that he doesn't want me to be all grown-up so he just ignores the fact that I am." She nods, and serves the frazzled looking man. I finish my bowl of coffee, wave goodbye to Alicia, and hello to Ange as she comes in, and leave. Lucy will want me so that she can go shopping. We promised Peighton and Paige that Uncle Harry and Uncle Charlie would come with us "to carry the bags, and pay the bills", as Celestina Warbeck once said. Harry and Charlie both completely dote on the Twins, they are constantly spending money on them. Charlie tells Lucy that she is the number one girl in his life, Harry tells me the same. Pssh. They both have two number one girls in their lives, and we aren't them. The girls are already here. I walk through my front door.

"Aunty! Aunty Lucy is just getting a few cookies, and then we'll go, she said." Paige said rapidly.

"Uncle-Charlie-and-Uncle-Harry are in the lounge. Aunty Lucy said that we could go into _London_! Muggle London!" Peighton says loudly, starting to speak literally the moment that Paige stopped. I hate it when they do that. I get a tad bit confused. I love how she conjoins Charlie and Harry's name. She does it with everyone, instead of saying 'Aunties Lucy and Ginny', she'd say 'Aunty-Lucy-and-Aunty-Ginny.' _C'est très mignon_.

"Ok then, Uh, I'll just go and get changed." I take a sharp left and walk down into our bedroom. I'm going to wear my 4 inch purple tapered heels, the white skinnies that I'm already wearing, and my purple Muppet t-shirt with 'animal' on the front. It's a Muggle thing. Once changed, and my worn clothes are away, I grab my red trench coat, and walk into the lounge.

"Ginny, why are you wearing 5 inch heels out shopping. In this weather?" This weather? What weather? I look out the window. Oh, it's raining. Mental note; take a brolly with me.

"Charlie, A) they aren't 5 inch, they're only 4 inches. B) I like them. C) Harry likes them too, don't you Harry?" I give Harry a look that clearly says: You had better say yes. Or else.

"Uh, yeah. 'Course." Harry splutters, turning from his tête-à-tête with Peighton for a moment before shaking his head, and turning back to her.

"See? And, D) they have anti-trip jinxes and a cushioning charm on them. It's like I'm wearing sneakers." Besides, who is he to tell me what to wear? Honestly, _brothers_.

"I'm here!" Lucy bursts into the room, "Paige, you go with Ginny, Peighton, you come with me. Charlie and Harry, just… you can Floo by yourselves. Hopefully." She chuckles at that last statement. I bet she's thinking 'damn I'm funny!' One faint pop and one non-audible pop later, both men have Apparated to the Leaky cauldron, our designated meeting place. Lucy then throws the chalky green Floo powder into the fire, walks in while piggybacking Peighton, and shouts: "The Leaky-Cauldron!" Paige and I repeat the process, and a few moments later, we are both dizzy, but arrive safely. I grab Paige's hand, and make my way over to where Lucy, Peighton, Charlie and Harry are all standing. Since Hannah took over the running of the Leaky Cauldron, everything sparkles; the atmosphere is nicer and less… unsavoury. The food is edible-ier (the pea and ham soup no longer bites), the rooms are nicer, and, shock horror, the bar and tables are actually clean. As soon as we approach them, Luce immediately pulls out her wand and points it at me, which is actually pretty scary.

"Scourigify!" She says, flourishing her wand as she said it. "Sorry, soot on white isn't a good look." I grin and nod.

"No, it isn't. _On y va_!" I agree. Let's go.

"Onwards! Lead the way, Peighton!" Paige practically screams, marching after her sister through the door into Muggle London. They really are something. Funny, seeing as their parents are Percy and Penny.

"So, where to, Gin?" Harry, Harry, Harry, you are with three shoe-a-holics and one bag-a-holic. Where do _you_ think?

"Harrods, Harry. Then Oxford Street and Piccadilly Circus, then Trafalgar Square." I wonder if Lily named Harry after Harrods… come on, you got to admit, it's a possibility!

"Right in one, Mr. Charles." Luce says in a faux posh accent,

"Why _thank you_ Ms. Lucille." He replies, replicating her accent.

"Heeey, my name's not Lucille!" Lucy moans playfully. Silly Billys. Gawdy, I've spent too much time around kids under 9, and I don't even _have_ kids! In order for us to get to the famed Harrods, we must take the underground. The train is packed; we only just manage to squidge in. Several stops later (Knightsbridge tube station, if you _must _know), we get out, gasping for fresh air. Up the stairs and down the street, and in through the front doors.

"I shall go to the Shoe Department. Paige? Harry? Are you coming with me?" They both nod, Paige enthusiastically. Harry, not so much. Eh.

"Good, good. Peighton and I will go and look at the bags with Charlie, right?" Lucy says, her voice threatening Charlie with nights spent on the couch if he doesn't agree. This is not too regular an occurrence, but none of us are unfamiliar with it.

"Yeah." Charlie confirms, seeming to not notice the death ray directed at him.

"We can all meet on the Teddy Bear floor in about, say an hour? Charlie-Boy here broke Vicki's the other day and she made him promise to buy her a new one." Lucy continues, shaking her head in wonder at Victoire's ability to have every single one of her uncles wrapped around her little finger, at age five. Although I must say, it is rather amusing watching her orchestrate them, her being small even for a five yr old, and them being 6 well-muscled guys. Out of all of them, Ron is the worst. Right after Big Bill, that is. Everybody goes their separate ways; once in the Shoe Department, Paige immediately runs for the children's footwear, while Harry wanders to the men's section, saying something about needing more dress shoes. I browse the racks, seeing some very nice shoes, but not any that scream 'buy me!'

"Aunty, look! Aren't they pretty?" Paige has found some pretty pink boots with a flower print on them. Her size, I notice.

"They _are_ nice. And, they go with your hair nicely." The twins both have the most beautiful shade of Auburn hair, not the violently coloured tresses that adorn mine and my brothers' heads.

"Can I get them? Pretty pleeease?" Aww! She's so cute! I taught her so well. I'm very proud.

"Go ask your Uncle Harry." I say, and listen to her humming as she skips merrily away;

"Uncle Harrrryyyy!" Oh, she is _so_ getting those boots.

~…*…~

"Ginny Molly Weasley. How many pairs of shoes did you _buy_ today?" Harry asks incredulously as I plonk my bags onto the kitchen table. Wait, he called me Ginny! Ooo, I'm in trouble, he hasn't called me that in years.

"Well… There are those tan long boots, and the black high heeled anklet boots, and some cute ballet slippers. Oh, and some navy sparkly stilettos to wear with my black one-shouldered, sleeveless dress that I'm wearing to the ministry ball in _two weeks_, you didn't forget did you?" He shakes his head, eyes widening slightly at my pseudo angry tone of voice. I keep talking. "Then there were those super cute cork wedge heels from Franco's Finest Footwear," I keep right on listing descriptions of shoes in my closet, even though the stilettos were the last pair that I brought today. He has given up shaking his head and has graduated to a glazed look. I giggle inwardly. It's always easy to tell when he has stopped listening to me because, while his eyes are normally a clear emerald colour, when he zones out, they darken considerably. Useful information let me tell you.

"Harry, I'm moving to South Korea with Paige and Peighton. I met this great guy, and we got talking so… Bye!" There are a few seconds pause before he shocks back into life;

"What? Huh? But I thought you loved me! We are getting married! How could you do this to me, Ginny?" By this time, I am positively roaring with laughter.

"It's not funny, Gin." Harry scowls. He is particularly good at scowling.

"What are you talking about? Of course I love you, and I'm pretty sure that we are getting married. I said 'Harry, I'm going to Paige and Peighton's house to give them makeovers tomorrow. But, Mum wants to talk to me now, so… Bye!' What did you think I said?" *insert innocent puppy eyes here*

"Something about South Korea, and moving. Doesn't matter. What time will you be home?" Oh, I do feel mean, but Harry makes it so easy to trick him.

"By 5.30pm at the latest, unless she invites us for dinner, in which case, I'll Floo you and you can come with." I walk up to him, giving him a lingering kiss and a hug, before Flooing to the Burrow. I wonder what Mum wants to talk to me about…

**So? Did you like my pitiful attempt at a cliff hanger? It's hard with this kind of story. There aren't many opportunities to end a scene with an ominous cloud hanging over it, and even when there is a chance, it's not **_**that**_** dramatic. But hey, at least I don't have quite as lamer story-line as Shortland Street!**

**Don't forget to review!**

**-Chocolate Fishy**


	12. The Preparations Begin

~Chapter 12~

~…Day of Ministry Ball…~

Oahhh. Yawn. What is for breakfast, I wonder. Hmm, Harry's not in bed. Weird, it's only 7.30am on a Friday. That boy loves his sleep almost as much as I do. Why isn't he here? Ooh! A note, how romantical. It reads,

Gin,

I have gone to Ron's and Hermione's; he flooed, saying that it was absolutely essential that one of us went there ASAP. Or, in his rather loud words, "RIGHT NOW, DAMN IT!" Anyway, you looked far too asleep to go, so I, your loving fiancé, went to deal with your brother. It's 7.00am now, and I expect to be back around eight-ish, so I'll see you then.

Love you always,

Harry 3

Aww! That's so sweet. I do like my sleep. Then again, so does he. I bet that Ron's great problem was that he had forgotten the Ball tonight, and needed robes or something equally important. Most of my family and friends are going. Harry as an Auror, and of course the Boy Who Lived Again, me and Lucy as league Quidditch stars, Hermione as HOD of Magical Law Enforcement and Ron as her date. Bill and Fleur as senior Gringotts employees and Victoire managed to acquire a ticket too. George and Ange both get to go as WWW won the Diagon Alley Top Shop award. Percy as the Minister's secretary, and Penny as his wife, Dad is going as a senior employee and Mum as his wife. Charlie is Lucy's date, and Harry and I are taking Paige and Peighton. Even Teddy got an invite, because Harry advocated for him, and Harry has some major might when he wants to use it. Anywho, time to get up. What do I feel like for breakfast? Cereal. I'm feeling healthy today. And bacon, yes. And coffee. Lots of coffee. I don't quite feel awake yet. First, though, I shall have a shower. What should I wear…? My slightly-too-big 'Red-dy For Bed' T-shirt and my comfy, faded jeans. Which are actually Charlie's. I pinched them from his wardrobe years ago. He hasn't said anything, so I assume that he doesn't mind too much. I grab my clothes, and walk into the bathroom, slamming the door shut after me. I don't want any Tom, Dick or Harry to see me. *grin* I am _so_ funny.

~…*…~

"What's that smell? Ginny! Dear, I thought that you had left the stove on. What are you making? Bacon. Oh, darling, you forgot the eggs and kippers. I'll just get them out for you." Mother, if it is just one person who, I might add, is currently eating a bowl of cereal and frying bacon, eggs and kippers are not needed.

"No, mum, I'm fine. I have cereal, see?" She won't see. And then she'll complain about how small my kitchen is. Which it's not really. I mean, by her standards it's teensy, but Harry and I don't cook that often.

"Ginerva, that is not a breakfast. That is birdseed. But, if you insist. Your kitchen, your rules. Besides, it's much too small to do it properly anyhow. But I digress; I need some help with my robes. They are too… spangly, for me. And I know that you can sew well, and have a good eye for these sorts of things. Would you be able to help me take off some of the spangles?" The robes look completely fine to me, not too spangly at all.

"Ok, Mum." I nod, finishing my bowl of cereal. I dig my sewing box out of my 'bedroom' and turn to find Mum standing in the doorway looking in.

"You keep your bedroom very tidy, dear. I guess that all of my yelling to get your old bedroom tidy wasn't in vain after all. When you and Harry are married, which room will you use? This one is quite big enough. I'll just pop my head into his room and see if it's any bigger." She walks out of the room, and across into mine and Harry's room. Which is, quite obviously, _Harry's and mine_.

"Oh, my…" She whirls, I cringe. "GINERVA MOLLY WEASLEY! You have some serious explaining to do Missy." She hasn't called me Missy in years. Crapendoodle.

"Well, you see… um… well, uh…" I stutter like a 14 yr old caught sneaking out. Damn it.

"Yes?" She says, now tapping her foot impatiently. So _that's_ where I get it from!

"Both Harry and I are adults, and it's not like we've done anything like _that_. I like falling asleep and waking up in his arms. It makes me feel… safe. Besides, Ron, and Charlie, and Bill, Percy, and George all know. And threatened Harry accordingly." I smile at the thought. They freaked Harry good and proper. It was funny.

"Well, I'm still not happy about it. You need to clean up this mess. I know that it isn't Harry's, he is a tidy boy. You on the other hand, are a mess monster, in Bill's infamous words." I nod and start to put various items of clothing on hangers, and stuff my shoes into the closet. Mum helps me make the bed, and then we go back to the lounge and de-spangle-ise her robes.

Half an hour later, Harry arrives home. I hear him get a drink from the fridge, knowing Harry a Butterbeer, and he appears in the doorway. His eyes widen ever so slightly as he sees what Ron would term a 'fashion factory'. My brothers do seem to have a penchant for alliteration.

"Hey Gin-Gin, Molly. I just stopped by to say that I'm going to… er... the shop. Yes. Gin, do you want to go out for lunch today? You're welcome too, Molly." He says, obviously making the bit about going to the shop up on the spot.

"No thank-you, Harry dear. Ron and Hermione are coming over for lunch, see, I'm making Raisin Bubble pudding, Hermione's favourite. Now these robes are finished, I really must get home to make the roast. Thank you, Ginny darling for helping me. Land, I'm just very excited about tonight." She moves around, collecting her robes and handbag before waving goodbye to Harry and me, and walking off up the road.

"Were you guys done?" Harry asked sweetly, obviously concerned that he'd made her leave. Aww!

"Yeah, we were done about 15 minutes after we started but Mum stayed longer. It was nice, actually. I haven't done something like that with her in ages. So, are you really going to the shop?" I ask him while simultaneously packing up my kit and walking into the spare room and stowing it. Harry followed me.

"Yeah, I have to drop something off to George, but it's not urgent." He replies. I nod.

"Mum discovered that I don't sleep in here." I smile, "She was being nosy about our rooming arrangements for when we are married, and walked into our bedroom to see whether it is bigger than this one or not. She found evidence of my outfit choosing today." I'm grinning now. Harry bursts out laughing,

"Ooo, I bet she said 'This obviously isn't Harry's mess, he is a tidy boy. You on the other hand are a "mess monster" to quote Bill.' Am I right, or am I right?" I chuckle at his antics, and he wraps an arm around my shoulder.

"You are so close to right, you must be psychic. Let's go to the shop, just let me grab my handbag." We go into the bedroom and he finds his shoes again, while I change my t-shirt to my WWW one. George'll love it. I lace up my shoes. Well, they are _Cyndi's_ purple Chuck-Taylors, really. She lent them to me a couple of months ago in trade for my Stella McCartney cloud-print, ballet-tie wedge-heels. I love that we are the same size. Anyway, I finish lacing up my shoes, grab my handbag, and follow Harry out the front door. We decide to Side-Along Apparate into the flat above the shop, I grab his arm tightly, and we are gone.

**Ball chapter part B is next! I love parties, so I'm looking forward to it; it was a monster to write, though. However, after attending a similar function, I found myself better able to describe it.**

**-Chocolate Fishy**


	13. Ministry Bashes and Ballerinas

**Part B is here! Ahh! This reminds me of my school Ball a little while ago. It was really fun, so I hope that this chapter really has a sense of excitement and fun.**

**Enjoy!**

~Chapter 13~

~*Day of Ministry Ball Continued*~

My dress for the Ministry Ball is completely gorgeous, if I do say so myself. Mum is going to hate it, though. *Grin*. It is just-over-the-knee length, pure white, strapless, and sparkly. Penny'll put my hair up for me, Lucy offered to do my make-up, and I'm going to wear the navy heels I brought the other week. Harry is wearing a tux. Or, as he calls it, a penguin suit. All the males in attendance have to wear either that or a really nice Muggle suit. Apparently, it's the latest fashion to wear Muggle finery. Anyway, back to reality. Harry and I have just Apparated into the apartment above WWW.

"Harry! You're back. Ginny! Do you like my Muggle penguin suit?" Ron grins unabashedly. He is standing in the middle of the room, in front of Ange's floor length mirror, wearing a suit, and a tie that looks remarkably like the one Dudley's wife, Cherianne, bought for Harry last Christmas. According to the tag, it is from Milan. It is also turquoise blue, and clashes horribly with his hair.

"You look… smashing, Ron." I smile, "Is George in the shop?" I ask Ange, who is there also, presumably helping Ron get ready.

She nods. "Yeah. Hey, when you see him, tell him to come up here for a minute. I have a surprise." You know, whoever said that marriage kills sex, is obviously wrong. All you have to do is look at the Weasley family.

"Uh huh. Let's go, Gin." Harry says, looking uncomfortable. I grin, and drag him down the stairs.

"What do you need? I'm getting some Skiving Snackboxes, for 'just in case'." I say, smirking.

"Lovely. I need some more ears. Incredibly useful, they are." He smirks back, and captures my lips in a kiss as we reach the bottom stair. Somebody clears their throat in front of us.

"You lovers do know that there are copious amounts of children under the age of 17 in this shop, right?" George says acerbically.

I ignore his tone and reply loudly "Yes, dear brother, I did. Oh, by the way, Angelina says to tell you that she has a," insert fake cough, "_surprise_ for you waiting upstairs." George flushes red.

"Yeah, well… Anyway, what are my lovely sibling-and-sibling-in-almost-law's buying today?" He says, ignoring his previous embarrassment. We hand him a shopping list, yes I know; it's sad that we have a shopping list for a joke shop, but if I didn't have one, I'd have to come back. George rings up the purchase, and Harry and I walk out onto Diagon Alley, heading towards the Leaky Cauldron.

"So, Harry, why is Ron wearing your tie?"

"Because he doesn't have any. I took over a selection of nice ones, and that one of course, and -"

I cut him off. "He managed to pick the one Hermione would completely hate without even knowing. Yup, sounds like Ron." We both laugh long and loud. Heh, alliteration.

"So, Mr Potter, where do you want to go for lunch?" I ask in my best Posh Accent.

"How about that new place on the far corner of Trafalgar Square, Miss Weasley?" He says in an accent reminiscent of Mr Collins in Pride and Prejudice. I laugh.

"Ooo, that 'London's Best Asian-Style Noodles!' place?" I query.

He nods. "That's the place."

"That sounds just fine, Mr Potter. Are we to take the bus?" I completely adore the double-decker buses. Whenever we go into Muggle London, we always take the bus.

"Yup. We could walk, it's only really five minutes away, but I really can't be bothered." He responds, while indicating for me to enter the Leaky Cauldron first. We wave and say hello to Hannah, and head out onto Charing Cross Road.

"So," I begin, dragging the short word out, "have you seen my dress for the ball yet? No? Oh, you are going to love it. But, while we are out today, I need to get a strapless br… undergarment. My other one's underwire came out the other day. T'was _awfully_ vexing, you understand." I say, grinning at his obvious discomfort. "Would you mind coming with me?" I continue in a faux innocent voice. Harry hates coming 'undergarment' (Mum's word, not mine) shopping. That's why I enjoy dragging him along! He gets so awkward, it's hilarious. I was talking to Ange and Luce the other day, and they both said that Charlie and George were the same. Although Ange said about George: "I bet that he doesn't hate it as much as he makes out. I mean, when he knows what I might be wearing, it makes undressing me in his head that much easier." Lucy and I were in hysterics at that comment.

At last Harry speaks, "Uh, sure. Yeah. Um, yes. Are you still wearing your navy sparkly stilettos?" Ok, maybe _speaks_ is too stronger word, stutters is more like it.

"Uh-huh. Why?"

"Which cufflinks should I wear? The brushed silver ones that Dudley and Cherianne sent last Christmas, or the platinum ones of Dad's with the sparkly tops from the big vault?" he asks, right as we climb onto the aforementioned double-decker bus. Dudley and Harry exchange gifts each Christmas. A peace offering of sorts, really. Of course, Dudley's are always expensive, as if to leave Harry in no doubt who was richer and more successful. Which is silly really, as Harry is still richer and more successful than Dudley. Suffice to say that the whole 'I'm better than you' kick isn't really working. We are just walking into the sleek looking restaurant when I answer him.

"The sparkly ones, I think. They will match best. Do you still have your navy blue bow tie? Remember, I got it for you when I brought my dress." He better not've lost it. I will be furious if he lost it.

"Um, yeah. It's in with my socks, I think. Have you chosen what you want?" I nod, and we order.

After lunch, back at home, Lucy was there.

"Hey Ginny. Do you still want me to do your makeup? We had better head over to Penny's house. We have Peighton and Paige to get ready too, don't you forget." Good, good.

"Mm-hm. I'll just get my things," I reply, racing into mine and Harry's room. I reckon that I'll just wear my shoes now so that I don't have two pairs there. Ok, so, I've got my make-up, hairpins, hairbrush, dress, strapless bra, wand, yup. I've got everything.

"Bye, Harry!" I say, walking back into the lounge where he is talking to Lucy, and kissing him on the cheek. Lucy and I then turn on the spot simultaneously, not bothering to walk out to the apparition point; the wards only stop people coming in, not going out. Two _*pop!*_s later, and we are both standing on Percy and Penny's doorstep. We open the door and go in. Immediately, I am attacked by Pieter, while Lucy looks on laughing. Pieter has recently learned that when you grab and hold a persons leg for long enough, you get picked up.

"Hey, Pieter. What's new Pussycat?" He loves that song, and always replies with a:

"Wooh oo woah oh ooowha!" he yells, right on cue. I smile at him, and he grins back gummily.

"Hello Ginny, Lucy. There you are Pietey! Back into your highchair. You haven't eaten all of your food." Penny takes him from me, and I follow her into the kitchen where she sits him in his chair, next to where the triplets are sitting in their three highchairs, and begins to feed him brown gunk with a teaspoon.

"How do you feed them that? It looks like mouldy hair gel, and I would know. I once did a Muggle studies project on hair gel." I say in a disgusted tone. Penny only sticks her tongue out at me in response. How un-Penny-like.

"Merlin's pants! I forgot my shoes. I'll be right back, Ginny, Penny." Lucy yells as she runs out the door. See, that's why I _wore_ my shoes. Penny then says that once she has finished feeding her kid's gross gunk, she will fix my hair for me. I thank her, and sit at the dining room table, pondering whether Miranda Tilliard will be at the ball tonight or not. Important topics, I tell you.

"Actually," I say abruptly, "I'll just get the twins ready then." I walk up the stairs, and find them in their hot pink and lime green room.

"Let's get you two monkeys ready, eh?" I smile, watching them bounce excitedly.

Twenty minutes later, both girls are dressed in matching dresses, one pale yellow (Paige), the other sky blue (Peighton), both with poofy skirts and pretty sparkles. I have curled their hair into big soft curls, and they are both, finally, in white stockings and black Mary Jane style shoes.

"Aunty Ginny, can we please wear make-up?" Peighton asks angelically.

"Yeah, can we? Please?" Paige adds, just as sweetly. Aww!

I nod, and apply a touch of sparkly blush to their already-rosy cheeks, and a little bit of coloured chapstick to both of their lips.

"That good?" I ask, showing them each their reflection in a little mirror. They nod earnestly, and grin at their mother as she walks into the room.

"Wow! You both look beautiful! Oh! My babies are growing up." Penny gushes. She, like Mum, gushes a lot. I quickly cast a setting charm on the girls' hair and make-up before they ruin it all.

"Ginny," Penelope continues, "into my room now; there's hair to be done." I do as she says, and walk into the white and pale blue trimmed room. Oh! There are roses on the duchess! How sweet of Perce. I'd better put my dress on so that I don't ruin my hair later. Just as I finish zipping up my dress, Penny walks in. She's got _good_ timing.

"Ok, so, I'm going to straighten your hair, then put it in a French twist, with some curled bits hanging down and framing your face." That sounds nice. I nod and sit at her dresser table seat in front of a mirror, and watch her work magic. Heh, magic. Get it. Ten minutes later, the front door slams, and a voice announces

"Lucy Weasley is in the building! Hold the applause, please." She walks in, now wearing her beautiful sea green satin dress, and matching salsa heels, as high as mine. Her dress really is magnificent; it has spaghetti straps, a slim fitting top with black lace over the sea green satin, and drapes of satiny fabric falls gracefully to the ground, swishing slightly as she sits in front of me, her back facing the mirror, and stares.

"Um, what are you doing? Your dress looks awesome, by the way." I tell her, she grins back.

"Thanks. I'm pretending to be Harry, but you aren't co-operating. Now, I need eyeliner, mascara, foundation, blush, eye shadow, lippy, and glossy-stuff. Stat." I pass my whole make-up bag to her, and she sets to work. Once Penny is done with my hair, she starts doing Lucy's while Luce is finishing up my make-up. Penny styles it just like how the Muggle actress, Rosamund Pike, had her hair in the 2005 Pride and Prejudice movie. Yes, I have become semi-obsessed with it since Hermione got me Pride and Prejudice for my birthday. Not my fault. Really. Anywhoosits, it looks fabulous with Lucy's dress. Lucy finishes up with my face, and hands me my bag.

"Wow. Lucy you look, wow." Such a master of words, Penny is.

"Yeah, your hair, your gorgeous dress. Where did you get it? When?" I ask, semi politely. Ok, not politely at all. So sue me. Actually, on second thoughts, don't sue me.

"Well, the hair I was born with," She grins as I stick my tongue out at her, and continues, "and the dress," She then smiles softly as if remembering a fond memory, "When Charlie and I were in London awhile ago, I saw it in a shop window and _had_ to have it. So he brought it for me." Ooh. I remember that; she was happy for, like, two weeks after that.

"Aww. My big brother is sweet. Time for your make-up!" I singsong merrily to Lucy, who groans good-naturedly, and says:

"Ginny, _promise_ that you won't go overboard. Or make me look like a clownfish." Overboard? Me? Never. *grin*

"'Course not. Gimme your makeup. Thank-you," I say as she, somewhat reluctantly, might I add, sits properly in front of me. I continue as I set to work, "So. What is Charlie-Boy wearing?" I feel like one of those too-chatty hairdressers.

"His suit, well, it's the same one that was tailored for Ron's wedding, and his tie matches my dress. He apparently feels very formal, actually said that he wanted to wear his 'Dragon clothes'. I told him that if he did wear them, he'd be on the wrong end of my wand. Suffice to say, he was trembling in those damned dragon boots. He needs new ones. They are the _exact same boots_ that he got before going to Romania straight out of Hogwarts. When I was training Dragons there, I went through at least 3 pairs." She replies, rambling a bit by the end. Charlie got a new job a while ago. He had been working at the Ministry, in the Department of Magical Creatures, but he was sent to the dragon reserve in Britain. (Thank-goodness. He was going stir crazy at the desk job, and letting us know.) It's small, way smaller than the Romanian one, but he gets to work with the beasts he loves, in England with his family. Lucy and I keep chatting while I finish her make-up, with Penny commenting every so often. Finally, I am done, and Lucy is looking completely smashing, if I do say so myself.

"All done. Penny! Do you need your hair and make-up done?" I say, knowing of course, that she would politely refuse. She doesn't trust us with her hair. *Grin*

"Oh, no. No. I will do it myself, thank-you. Now shoo! Get back to your men, or they'll still be in their underwear five minutes before this blasted thing starts." She laughs. Penny is exactly right. They'd go in their t-shirts and jeans if we would let them get away with it.

"Mm. Hey, do you mind if Luce and I take the twins back to my house? Charlie and Harry are already there. I want to show Harry my dress; he hasn't seen it yet." I finish with a grin,

"That is fine; I will see you all there, then. Yes? Have fun girls! Bye." And with that final word from Penny, Lucy and I grab our things, and then hitch Paige and Peighton onto our hips, and Apparate back to mine and Harry's house. Both Harry and Charlie are there, of course, both looking confused and rather pale. They are completely dressed, but their respective tie and bowtie lie around their necks, undone.

"Do you two seriously not know how to tie your ties?" Lucy asks in disbelief.

"Well actually, Lucy, mine is a bowtie."

"_Thank-you,_ Harry. Come here, Charlie. Your shirt is buttoned wrong too. Hands off! Let me do it." Lucy says. Both Paige and Peighton are properly giggling now. I walk over to Harry, and tie his bow tie up. Years of practice, I used to do Daddy's when I was little. He always wore a bow tie to work. Harry leans down to my ear and whispers in it,

"You look so beautiful." I smile and kiss him lightly.

"Ewww! Aunty Ginny! Uncle Harry! Stop it!" Peighton starts,

"Yeah! Aunty Lucy, put Uncle Charlie's shirt back on!" Paige finishes. Charlie and Lucy are all but undressed, Lucy's zip was halfway to being undone, and Charlie's shirt has been unceremoniously discarded on the floor. Typical. Paige continues, "Aunty Ginny, when is your wedding? I can't remember, and I want to make sure that Mr. Fuzz is free to attend. Will he get an invite, or should I just bring him as a guest?" Aw! Bless her.

"It's in 3 months. On the 26th January. Mr. Fuzz and Mr. Fluff will _both_ be invited. What the heck, they can even get front row seats." I say, smiling beatifically. I am so excited!

"Thank you Aunty Ginny! Guess what Peighton?" She shouts across to Peighton, who is playing exploding snap with Harry. "Mr. Fluff and Mr. Fuzz get front-row-seats at Uncle Harry and Aunty Ginny's wedding!" I got to name Peighton's teddy, Mr. Fluff. Lucy named Paige's teddy, Mr. Fuzz. We brought them for the twins, and they have different sets of clothes to dress them up in.

"Harry, Ginny, Paige, Peighton, Charlie! Attention all! It is time to go. Let us Apparate. Charlie, you take Peighton, Harry, you take Paige."

"Uncle Harry! It's so pretty! Can you dance with me?" He nods and puts Paige down,

"Here, stand on my toes." She does, and they are off, spinning dizzily. Harry does the waltz, the samba, the foxtrot with her, both of them grinning widely. I had no idea that Harry could dance at all well, let alone know all of these dances!

Peighton is currently begging Charlie to dance with her. Lucy can dance, but she seems to be enjoying watching Charlie-boy squirm too much to intervene. I walk over and save him.

"I'll dance with you, Peighton, here. Stand on my toes." It won't hurt; she is as light as a feather. We spin and dance in time with Harry and Paige, executing some sort of complicated and wild dance.

"Where did you learn to dance like this?" Harry asks in my ear as we whisk past. Everybody seems to be standing around the dance-floor watching us by now.

"Gwenog made us take classes as part of training in order to improve our balance. What about you? You look brilliant." I say in fragments, speaking only when passing him. I can honestly say that I have never seen him look so sexy. Or hot. Even with Paige standing on his feet, looking positively delighted at going so fast. They are both grinning, and he looks genuinely happy.

"Ron made me go to classes with him when he was learning to dance for his wedding." He laughs here, "Ron was abominable, but the teacher said that I have 'natural grace'. How stupid does that sound? I suppose she was right though." He is right; Ron was as graceful as a stampeding elephant at his wedding. Hermione made a great pretence at being annoyed at him for that, but everyone, including Ron for once, could see that she was actually rather pleased that he had even tried to learn at all.

"Let's stop, I'm tired," I say, and we spin back to Penny to drop off her kids, and then sit down at one of the numerous tables. Lucy and Charlie, Ron and Hermione all join us at the table, and Ron starts speaking in an awestruck tone,

"I didn't know that you could dance like that, Ginny!" Hermione nods in agreement.

"Gwenog made us take lessons to improve our balance when we are on our brooms. We did it with the Magpies." I explain quickly. We sit and talk for 20-ish minutes, before Shacklebolt stands up, announcing that shortly, dinner would be served. All six of us join the rest of our family at one of the larger tables set out for dinner.

I look at the menu, we have a choice of Linguine with Scallops; Chicken breast served with a selection of fresh vegetables; a tomato based risotto; or a Cornish pasty with mushy peas and mashed potatoes. I'm thinking the pasta for me. Ron'll have the Cornish pasty. He loves those. I tell my plate what I would like, and it appears on my plate. Well, would you look at that. Harry ordered the same thing, Linguine. What a coinkydink. Whoa, look at that list of desserts! Tiramisu, White Chocolate Cheesecake, Red Velvet Cake, Lemon Meringue Pie, and treacle tart are among the plates offered. Yum, I cannot wait for dessert. Smiling around at my family, all seated at the largest table in the room, I dig in.

~after dinner and speeches~

"_Voulez-vous danser avec moi_, would you care to dance with me, Harry?" I ask. I haven't done anything except for listening and eating for an hour and a half. I want to dance!

"Sure," He smiles back at me, and we walk out onto the dance floor. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lucy drag Charlie-Boy out onto the floor. Gwenog, team captain and first Beater, and her husband, Richard Jones, are next onto the dance floor, and soon the entire team and their partners are spinning gracefully across the floor. Miranda, the third Chaser, and Justin Leong, her boyfriend of three months. There is Chloe Titus, our second Beater, and Gethro Purvis, her best friend and most recently, boyfriend. Bridget Muthumala, the Keeper, and her little brother Greg come next. Finally, there is Katey Wood, the Seeker, and her boyfriend Jeffery Hawken.

Charlie is being lead brusquely by Lucy, looking quite comical. Katey is leading Jeff in much the same way. We are all dancing as if it had been meticulously choreographed, which only serves to reinforce the notion of our seamless functioning as a team.

"Are you having fun, Gin?"

"Yes, I am rather," I smile at Harry in return. "Are you?"

"I am. I enjoy dancing more than I would usually admit." He responds. At this, my smile only widens. It's so typically Harry, he always has a surprise up his sleeve.

"Mmm, yes. I love dancing too, when I was little, there were three things that I always wanted to be; a Quidditch star, a journalist, or a ballet dancer. Mum told me that even though she didn't particularly like it, I could be a Quidditch star if my heart was set to it. She was right. She said that I had the right sort of stuff to be a brilliant journalist. I hope that she was right, because I love writing. However, she did say that if I became a ballet dancer, she be supremely surprised. I was never the most graceful person." That's the understatement of the century. I was dead clumsy when I was younger, as George is always pleased to remind me.

"I'm sure that you would've made a wonderful ballerina." Harry grins, "These ministry ball things are so much better with you here." I agree. These things are normally about as entertaining as watching grass grow. Oh! A salsa song just came on. Does Harry know the Salsa, do you think? Oh he does! I love that he can dance. Heck, I just love Harry.

**Ok, so I just checked my Story Stats for this story. It has 2,147 hits, and only 18 reviews. Come on! Give me some love! I try to review every story that I read, because I love getting reviews, so I figure 'share the love'. Come on people! SHARE THE LOVE WITH ME!**

**That was not begging; I shall not stoop so low as to beg. If reviewing really is too hard for you then… I **_**do**_** allow anonymous reviews too, so that's not an excuse.**

**By the way people, I have put some pictures of some of Ginny's outfits online, so check out this link (minus spaces and brackets) to see them.**

(http) (:/) (/my.) (imageshack.) (us) (/v) (_images) (.php)

**-Chocolate Fishy**


	14. The Lovely Lucy

**A/N: Hey! This, my dear readers is a COMPLETELY different chapter than the old chapter 14. It has been in the works for a long time (like August last year long time) and thisisforyou FINALLY finished it! Yaaay!**

**Anywhoosits, Enjoy the chapter, and REVIEW!**

**-Chocolate Fishy**

"People are leaving it too late these days, and that's the worst possible thing to do. In my opinion, women should have babies as soon as they get married, and they shouldn't leave _that_ as late as they do, either. It's a woman's _duty,_ dear, and you're letting your husband down. If you leave it much longer it'll be too late."

I sent a 'help-me' glance Charlie's way, but he was dancing with Ginny and all he sent back was a grin that plainly said 'rather you than me' and a hurried thumbs-up. _I_ was letting _him_ down… something wrong with that. "Thanks, Auntie Muriel," I replied politely. "I'll bear that in mind."

The fact that Charlie and I had married at twenty-five – which put us both at a tender twenty-eight years of age now – had somehow escaped her eagle eyes. Anything to prove a point, that's how Muriel operated. To my relief, she grunted in satisfaction at my apparent compliance and meandered off, pushing dancers aside to the tune of "I'm a hundred and twelve, get out of my way!" and leaving me alone.

Phew. Truth was, though, I did suddenly feel like I was getting old. It was Ginny's fault. Charlie's baby sister getting married did sort of leave the two of us as the old hands at that sort of thing. As we were getting ready earlier that night, my darling husband had looked at the fading lines of muscle on his bare stomach and said, "Oh, dear. I used to be man-shaped."

He'd never been man-shaped, of course. Not my Charlie-boy. He'd always been film-star-hunk-shaped. But it was true that the recent months of weekly Molly-Weasley-style dinners had begun to have an effect on the shape of his tummy. Not much, and of course it didn't make him any less gorgeous, but still.

"You look beautiful, Mrs Weasley. I swear you haven't changed a bit since the Order."

I turned around at the deep voice behind me; Kingsley Shacklebolt was smiling at me, head dipped in a bow, hand out for the dance. "You're a true politician, Minister," I replied, curtseying and placing my sea-green glove in his. "Always know exactly what lies to spill to make someone feel better."

He chuckled, deep and throaty. It often amazed me he wasn't married; Minister for Magic, still quite young, _very_ tall and handsome, and with that voice. "Lies, Lucy? You _do _look stunning. Charlie must be very proud." I grinned back and we spun into the dance effortlessly. Add that to his list of to-die-for attributes: fabulous dancer. "But what's wrong?"

I clutched him slightly closer to hide my face from him. "I just got the 'soon-it'll-be-too-late' talk from Auntie Muriel," I told him. "My baby sister's getting married." Ginny was technically my sister_-in-law_, but that had always seemed like a mouthful. "I feel old."

Another chuckle. "You're too young to feel old. You're not allowed to feel old until you're thirty-six." I grinned at the Muggle film reference, whether intentional or not. "Besides, if it's too late for _you_, _I_ might as well die now."

"Yes, how is it that you're not married, Kingsley?" I asked conversationally, as we seemed to be on first-name terms. I didn't know him _too_ well, apart from that brief time when we were in the Order together.

"Just never found the right girl." He shifted his fingers slightly in mine. He'd be the perfect husband, albeit a slight workaholic. The way he was holding me, even though there was nothing sexual in his touch at all… I laughed.

"Well, I'll introduce you around, most of the Harpies are here. A celebrity marriage ought to earn you a little publicity." He joined me in laughing.

"Ah, but celebrity marriages never last."

I broke away slightly to look at him in surprise. "You _are_ making purposeful Muggle movie references!"

He grinned. "My sister and her family are obsessed," he said guiltily. "I don't even realise I'm doing it anymore."

I laughed again. "You'd fit right in at the Weasley house," I told him. "Hermione showed Ginny and I _Pride and Prejudice_ and we've been hooked ever since. Our husbands and their brothers have to watch them too."

The song wound down and Kingsley and I performed the customary bow/curtsey. His black eyes glimmered warmly. "Thank you for the dance," he said.

"Thanks for making me feel better," I replied. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of hot pink ruffles. "Bridget!" I called out quickly; the Sri Lankan beauty turned around. "This is Kingsley. He's the Minister for Magic. Kingsley, this is Bridget Muthumala, Keeper."

Bridget shrieked. A few people on the other side of the huge hall craned their necks to see what had happened. "You're the _Minister!_ Oh my God!" Kingsley and I shared a grin that said he knew _exactly _what I was doing. "Can I touch your beard?" The Minister's hand jerked involuntarily to his strong jet-black goatee.

"My… what?"

"Your beard," came a fake Arabic accent from behind me, accompanied by muscled arms around my waist. "Can I _feel _it."

Charlie kissed the top of my head. I giggled at the reference and looked at Kingsley to see if he knew what it was from. From the grin on his face, the Minister became my favourite politician. He'd even seen _Black Books._ "Um…" the taller man quoted, "no, I don't think so."

"Oh, come on," Charlie continued enthusiastically. "Just one little… no funny stuff, nothing _weird_." I was in silent hysterics by this stage, while Bridget watched, amused but with no idea what they were talking about.

"Well… okay then." Kingsley jutted his chin towards Bridget, who rubbed the goatee between two fingers ecstatically. Charlie made a grab for it too, but I held him back. There is such a thing as too far. We slipped away quietly to let the matchmaking magic work. Or not, as the case could quite possibly be; Bridge could be a bit of a handful.

"Have I mentioned you look perfect?" my beloved said softly, sitting back down at the table we'd nabbed. I shrugged nonchalantly. He had, of course. "I didn't realise you were that close to the Minister."

"Neither did I," I quipped. "He was in the Order all those years ago. When you were in Romania."

"Oh." I sat on his lap and he kissed the exposed skin of the back of my neck. "I love you."

"I know." I watched Harry and Ginny for a while; they looked so picturesque. The fact that both of them could dance helped immensely. That's where Charlie and I fell down; I wasn't too bad, save for my lack of balance, but he just couldn't get it. Two left feet.

The music ended as I watched them, leaning against Charlie and trying to ignore the way he was running his lips down my neck and shoulder. My baby sister-in-law stayed in the arms of the Boy Who Lived Twice, and the two of them cuddled with the most beautiful looks on their faces. Charlie pulled my hand up to his face and kissed all the way down my arm.

It can be quite distracting, though, when your husband won't leave you alone at a party. I knew from watching George and Ange that it's not a good look to turn anti-social and retire into a corner to snog, but sometimes it was terribly tempting. I tried half-heartedly to reclaim my hand, then gave up as his lips started travelling back up.

George approached us, for once without his other half, and made a ginornous mockery of a bow to me. "May I have this dance?" he asked in a camped-up aristocratic accent. I laughed.

"Of course, George." I went to stand up, but Charlie's arms clamped around my waist and I ended up sitting back down heavily. "Hang on a minute, though." I tilted my head back until I could see his. "Darling? Can I dance with your brother?"

"No." He held onto me like little Pieter with a teddy bear. George sighed.

"Please?" The fiery-haired entrepreneur began to tap his feet as Charlie shook his head childishly. I laughed and kissed him.

"You haven't danced with _me_ yet," he protested as I made to leave him again. I twisted round to look him in the gorgeous green eyes. "Well, once," he relented. "Twice - a few times. But you're my wife! You're supposed to –"

"Socialise," I finished sternly. "Let me go and I'll save you the next dance."

He grinned, suddenly best-friend Charlie instead of possessive-husband Charlie. "I expect compensation."

I laughed too. "I'm sure we'll be able to negotiate a price."

"Oh, there'll be no negotiation," he said, pressing his lips to mine in a heated kiss. I reluctantly had to agree with that. George finally lost patience with us.

"Look, are you going to dance or not?" he asked. I giggled.

"Okay, okay." I got up, gave my arm one final tug to get it out of Charlie's grip, and went to dance with George.

I never get over how often I forget there's just George. I can't imagine what it would be like for the other Weasleys, who saw them together every day of their lives. I knew them when they first started Hogwarts, two round-faced eleven-year-olds that tripped teachers in the hall and put Filibuster's Fireworks under Hagrid's chair at dinner. After Charlie and I rediscovered each other at Bill and Fleur's wedding, I knew them for a few short months. It was impossible to imagine them apart; they were so close even their names were always spoken together. Fred-and-George.

Now it was just George. And that sounded a bit flat. "Where's Ange?" I asked him as we foxtrot-ed around the hall.

"Socialising," he said, mimicking my previous inflection of the word. I laughed.

"It's just weird to see you on your own," I said.

He grinned. "It's kind of weird for me, too." George wasn't that bad at dancing; he managed to get his feet in the right direction without stepping on mine, which was a nice change from Charlie. "I saw you with Auntie Muriel before. What did she say?"

"I'm leaving it too late to have children and letting Charlie down by not doing my duty in that area," I said factually. George snorted.

"Well, don't take it too hard. Last time she saw me she told me my ears were lopsided."

I laughed and glanced at George's missing ear. "I don't even notice it anymore," I told him. He grinned back.

"Yeah, you do," he said. "You just accept it." I shrugged. He was right, in a way. But it was so much a part of _George_ that I just didn't register it. "So… twenty-eight is too late for kids, then?"

"Apparently." He tittered. "I don't know if Charlie and I were meant to have kids, though," I mused. "We'd be hopeless parents. Our kids would be spoilt senseless because neither of us have the willpower to refuse them. I mean, look at Paige and Peighton, and they're not even ours."

He nodded sagely. "Well, personally I think twenty-eight is almost too young. If you look at Percy and Penny… they're exhausted all the time and they're still so young…"

"Are you just trying to make me feel better?"

He shot me a sheepish grin. "Maybe. But it's true."

I grinned back. "Yeah. And anyway, I _love_ what Charlie and I have together now. I wouldn't change that for anything, not yet."

As the dance ended, I shot my husband a glance; he was still sitting right where I left him, watching me. I rolled my eyes. "Look at him," I said to George. "I wonder if he knows how stupid he looks when he does that."

George followed my gaze. "I think he loves you too much to care." I smiled. "He danced with other people before. Now he's had enough of everyone else."

The band struck the final chord of the song. "Yeah. I think I'm getting like that too." We stepped apart; he bowed, I curtseyed. "Thank you for the dance, Mr Weasley."

"Not at all," he replied in the same posh tone. "Thank _you_, Mrs Weasley."

I handed George over to Ange, who had come to stand behind us expectantly, and went back to join my husband. "Hey, Charlie-boy," I said softly.

The band announced that this would be their last song for the evening before they handed over to the next entertainment. Charlie held out a hand. "You promised."

I regarded it coolly. "You promise not to step on me?"

He grinned apologetically. "I promise I'll try."

That was good enough for me. As the band struck up a tune I recognised, I put my hand in his and followed him onto the dance floor.

The waltz was slow enough that Charlie could manage to put his feet in the right places. After we'd got into the rhythm, he put his mouth right next to my ear and whispered, "This is the song we learnt to waltz to. The first song we ever danced together to."

"I remember," I said. "How could I forget?"

Bridget's high shriek of laughter caught my attention; I turned to the tables against the wall and saw that she was still with Kingsley, laughing at something he'd just said as he unconsciously leaned closer and closer towards her. Bridge has that power over most men. I laughed. "What?" Charlie asked hurriedly.

"Look at Bridge and Kingsley," I told him, shrugging in their direction. He looked. "Look what your clever wife did!"

He laughed too. "You're very clever, darling," he whispered softly. "But let's see how long it lasts, shall we?"

I sighed. We revolved with the dance until I couldn't see them anymore; I caught sight of Percy sitting at the Weasley table with Paige, Peighton and Victoire all asleep piled one on top of the other on his lap. I squeezed Charlie. "I love you," I told him.

"I know," he replied. I grinned and hugged him; the dance finished and we made as if to leave the floor.

Someone on the stage howled. This was followed by a none-too-quiet strike of an electric guitar and the base riff of _Full Moon._

Bridget screamed. So did Chloe and Gethro. Well, okay, Gethro didn't _scream_ as such, but he wanted to. I could tell. Who wouldn't? The Curse Breakers, rock band extroadinaire, in all their glory, had just stepped onto the stage.

* * *

When we Apparated back to our house many hours later, my hair had fallen out and my feet hurt, despite the many charms Ginny and I had cast on my stilettos. I think I'd had one too many Firewhiskies, probably courtesy of Kingsley and Bridget, who had jumped on Charlie and I the second we'd sat down, hyperactive from the music.

Dizzy, I clutched at him, but he hadn't regained his balance either and we fell against the wall. "Sorry," I said hurriedly, getting up.

"It's all right," he said gently. "Can't Apparate like I used to." His tone was mocking, but after Muriel, his words were ill-placed.

I sat down on the bed. "We're getting old, Charlie-boy," I said sadly.

"_I'm_ getting old," he corrected, sitting beside me. "You don't age."

"I'm immortal," I agreed wistfully. We'd gone through a Shakespeare phase in our fifth year at school and toyed with the idea of revisiting it in our wedding vows, but dismissed it.

"_So long as man shall breathe or eye shall see," _he finished. I giggled. We sat up against the headboard together; he took my hand in his and stroked it gently.

"I love you even though we're not fourteen anymore," he said sweetly. "_This time of year thou may'st in me behold / when yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang / Upon those boughs which shake against the cold…"_

"It's not the Autumn of our lives yet," I told him in a mock-stern voice, even though I was laughing. He stopped his recital abruptly. I sighed happily. I liked this game. "What sonnet reminds you most of me?"

He grinned. "One sixteen."

"Oh." That was the one _everyone _quoted. I was more original than that.

"What about me?"

"One forty-three." He thought for a second, but I supplied the first stanza anyway. "_My love is as a fever, longing still / for that which nurseth the disease; / feeding on that which doth preserve the ill / th' uncertain sickly appetite to please –"_

He cut me off. "Oi!" I laughed. "What part of that reminds you of me?"

I gave him an evil smile. "_For I have thought thee fair, and sworn thee bright / When thou art black as hell –" _He made an outraged noise and started to tickle me. I fought out the rest of the couplet amid gasps and giggles. "_- And dark as night!"_

When I finished, he was on top of me, arms braced on my either side, grinning. I shut up and watched him for a while. I loved him so much. He bent and kissed my neck, and I felt my stomach flutter. He still had that effect on me, even after three and a half years of marriage. "You still owe me for dancing with George," he whispered. "Now you owe me double."

I laughed. "So I do." He kept kissing me, right down to the point where my dress started.

He sighed. "I've been wanting to take this off you since you put it on," he said softly.

"If you didn't like it, you shouldn't have bought it," I told him sternly. He chuckled.

"I love it. It's beautiful. But it reminds me of what's underneath it…"

I grinned like a teenager. "My heart. The one that belongs to you."

He chuckled again, making my stomach jump. "Well, that too," he said. "But I was thinking a bit more… material than that."

I laughed. "I love you."

He kissed me properly. "I know. I love you too."

"I know."

**I just read this for the first time, and AWWWWWWW! How can you not love that? Kudos to thisisforyou.**

**-Chocolate Fishy**


	15. Sparkly Doors and Sunny Days

**A/N: Hey! **

**ATTENTION! CHAPTER 14 HAS BEEN REPUBLISHED AS A NEW CHAPTER, AND THIS IS THE OLD CHAPTER 14! So read chapter 14.**

**Anywhoosits, Enjoy the chapter, and REVIEW!**

**-Chocolate Fishy**

~One Week Later~

It's a beautiful, sunny morning, the kind that you can only really dream of when you live in England. I _should_ be outside flying with Charlie or Harry, not sitting at the Burrow's kitchen table eating breakfast and discussing the merits of a blusher. No, it doesn't apply blush for you, I asked. It is, apparently, the thing on the front of a veil covering the bride's face. I don't want one, but Mum insists that it's tradition, and I simply must have one. Oh, here is Harry. I'll ask him.

"Harry, do you think I should have one of these, or not?" I ask, holding up the blusher-and-veil. He looks at it appraisingly, as if weighing up pros and cons.

He shakes his head, "No, it'd make it harder to do this." He leans down and kisses me as I smile.

"Too right. No blusher then. Why do you think it's called a blusher? I originally thought that it'd apply blush for you, but it doesn't." I was rather sad about that, actually.

"Ok. We are having a game in a minute, you game?" Harry asks, grinning at his tremendously lame pun.

Mum jumps in to intervene, "No! Harry, she can't come, sorry. Ginny, you are not to go. We have been planning this trip all month!"

We are going wedding dress shopping later. Normally I'd be positively giddy with excitement, but it's such a nice day! One begging for watermelon and Quidditch, and Mum has had us doing this all day. She came over to our house at 7am to drag me out of the house, me still in my pyjamas. I'm telling you, it's a good thing that I still have clothes here, even if they are a bit ratty now. I got the t-shirt that I'm wearing when I was 17, which I'm quite proud of, really.

"We are about to go dress shopping, so you have to go put something nice on, instead of that old t-shirt and your brothers old jeans. Maybe that pretty floral dress I got you last year, yes?" Mum continues, garnering my attention once more. The dress she speaks of, yeah it's only a little bit too small. Try 3 or 4 sizes. I'll wear my black high-waisted skirt and my purple sleeveless silk blouse with a ruffled stand collar and ruffled button front.

"Ok Mum. I'm going to go home quickly so I can get changed, then. I will meet you there; it's the Muggle bridal shop on Piccadilly Circus, right?" I ask Mum, while shuffling the wedding plan papers around so they sit in a nice and orderly pile.

"Yes. That's right, but I will meet you there in an hour's time, I have some shopping that I have to do first." She replies, having taken the pile and stacking it with the rest of the papers on the bench. I wonder what she is shopping for? I ask.

"Oh, nothing dear. Actually, we had better make it an hour and a half. I will see you at the bridal shop then, wear something nice!" she says, grabbing her coat and keys and 'hot tailing it outta here'. Sorry, Dad's Muggle American sayings book is brilliant!

"Gin, Harry are you two coming?" George calls in through the door.

"Nope. I have to go _bridal_ shopping." I say, pulling a face.

"Lucky you," he replies with a wry smile, "see what you've done, Harry? Our baby Ginerva is actually dreading shopping!" he continues, swapping his wry smile for a huge grin.

"I know, I know. I guess we will be heading straight to St. Mungo's now to make sure that the brain damage isn't permanent." Harry teases. It's time to set them straight, methinks.

"Ok, first off, _George Fabian_, don't call me Ginerva; secondly, I resent that, Harry. I love shopping almost as much as I love you, except this time it's with Mum. Last time I shopped with Mum, she made me buy this hideous jumper, with my own money, that had a cat on it. Doesn't sound too bad, yeah? Guess again. The cat had a sticky-out tail on the back, and if you squished its nose, it meowed "Something Wicked This Way Comes"; you remember the song that the Hogwarts choir sung at the beginning of my second year? That song, sung by a bright pink pussycat on a jumper." I stop here for dramatic effect, but begin talking again before either of the boys can get a word in edgeways. "Also, it's wedding-related shopping. Do you remember how our wedding colours are midnight blue, silver and white? And how the ceremony is to take place at 11:00pm?" Both Harry and George nod, "Well, Mum has tried to sway my decisions. Apparently, my wedding colours simply _have_ to be pale pink, purple and gold. Aaand the ultimate time for the ceremony to begin is 8:45am. I'm not even usually _awake_ at 8:45am! I don't know if you are aware of the fact that I'm not exactly a morning person,"

"We are." They chorus. I glare at the interruption,

"As I was saying, I'm _not_ a morning person, and she wants the wedding to _start_ at 8:45am. Do you realise how early I would have to wake up? Like 5 o' clock in the morning early! I would rather stay up 'til five than wake up at 5!" George nods his assent, he was always a night person, and Fred was the morning one. Harry is a day person, not morning, not night.

"Mmm. I like the idea of a midnight wedding." Harry says, pulling me to him and giving me a hug.

I take a calm breath to calm myself after my little rant.

"Well," George starts with a clap of his hands, "I'd best be going. Places to prank, Wives to see. I'll tell Ange 'hi' for you." He finishes, already walking out the door and back to the Quidditch Pitch in the yard.

"I need to go and get changed, want to come with?" I ask Harry, he nods and puts his arm around my waist as we start walking out the kitchen door. Unconsciously, I lean further into his embrace as we walk down the cobbled street.

"What kind of dress do you want, Gin-Gin?" Fleur would absolutely hate it if I told him, so I will. Fleur and I may get along better than we did, but I still take great delight in irking her.

"Well, not a meringue dress, but slightly poofy, and it will have beading, and I'm thinking halter neck, but it may end up being strapless, because according to Fleur that suits me really well. In don't really want it to be full length, but Penny will insist that it has to be, so it will be. My shoes are going to be the main feature. I've actually already brought them; they are Christian Louboutin, with a pale green netting-like front embroidered with a black flower pattern. The heels are covered in lime green rhinestones, but not a tacky lime green. A nice colour. They look striking against the midnight blue, silver and white colour scheme. Lucy and Ange helped me pick them; Mum doesn't (and won't until the day) know about them. Shh!" I giggle, and he chuckles at my obvious delight over the wool I'm attempting to pull over my mother's eyes.

"Secret operation shoes then. I would tell you what I'm wearing, but you probably know better than me anyway, so there is no real point." Harry says, turning the key in the lock and pushing open the… colourful front door.

The other day, about 4ish weeks ago, I had the girls from the team over. Harry was out on a field operation, and I decided that instead of worrying like I normally would, I'd invite Miranda, Chloe, Bridget, Katey, Gwenog, Lucy and Hermione over for a girls evening. It was fun. We drank more wine than any of us normally would, ate more chocolate than any of us normally would, gossiped more than any of us normally would, and laughed most of the night. We also painted our front door. The front door is now hot pink with purple, yellow, bright red and lime green spots, with a top coat of this amazing glittery _house paint_ that Chloe had from when she and Gethro painted their shed. To say that Harry was shocked when he came home would be an understatement, but it was nothing compared to Mum's reaction.

It went something like: "Ginerva! What in Merlin's holy name happened to your front door?" It was scary.

Anyway, we walk inside and into the kitchen where Harry sits at the table, and I sit on the bench as Harry continues speaking,

"I can't wait. You are going to be so beautiful. So when is everything happening, like times and the like?" He looks vaguely guilty for not knowing.

"We - well Mum really - have changed the times so often in the past few days that I'm not even sure. Last I knew, you had to be at the Burrow at 5:00pm, dressy-casual, because Mum is hosting a friends and family dinner from 6-7:30pm. After dinner, you bugger off to somewhere in the Burrow while I am locked in my room, being virtually tortured by all of the pushy females my brothers decided to marry, cough Bill cough, and you will be being kept from me. During this time, you have to get all nervy, mill around a bit and generally just help with odd jobs such as moving that one chair that is out of place." I pause to breathe, "At precisely 11:00pm sharp I will walk down the aisle, clutching Dad's hand, so you'd better be there preceding that. After the minister has preached a while, and we've said 'I do', the floor is magically cleared for the reception, where there will be lots of champagne, strawberries, chocolate, other sweet food, wine, and coffee. Then you and I head home to change clothes and sleep for a few hours, and then we head to Heathrow Airport at 9:30am to catch the Muggle airplane-thingy at 10:30am. We are going to Rome, and then we will catch a train to Assisi. Sound good?"

"It sounds wonderful, and totally too," Harry starts, but I cut him off before he can say 'too much'.

"This'll make it better: our Honeymoon is being paid entirely by some sort of trust thing that was started for you when you were a baby by your grandparents especially for your wedding. The account said 'Baby Potter Wedding Funds – Spend it James, and you die' which I laughed at."

Harry laughs too, "Really? It said that? That's brilliant. Well, I s'pose it's all sorted then. We're going to Assisi!"

"Yeah, exciting, huh? I gave the girls that list of possible locations that we made up a while ago, and they chose by throwing a dart. Good idea, no?"

"It _is_ rather, we might have to try that some time. You'd better get off that bench and get ready to go. There's only half an hour; you'll have to hurry!" He's mocking my dressing habits! I don't _take_ that long to get ready.

"Hey! This time I already know exactly what I'm wearing: My purple high waisted skirt, my brand new Dandy Voile Ruffle Det top from French Connection, and some gorgeous black shoes that look like they've been dipped in icy snow." I say triumphantly, as if it's Gold Medal worthy to know exactly what I'm wearing.

Harry only laughs and shunts me towards the bedroom where I pull my chosen items out from my closet.

The day after the Ministry Ball, Harry renovated the wardrobe. It took him 2 days, using both manual labour and magic, but he said that it was worth it, simply because our room is now a heck of a lot tidier. I really like it. There are copious amounts of undetectable Expandable Extension charms, and the racks have strengthening spells on them, so what was a fairly small double-door one-by-two wardrobe is now a walk in wardrobe that is as big as I want it to be. The inside is a shiny pearly white, there are rotating floor-to-ceiling racks, and a _massive_ rack for my shoes. Harry found it hilarious that once I had retrieved the rest of my clothes from the Burrow, the whole thing was filled by all of my clothes, minus a little area dedicated to Harry's dressing needs. My vanity and make up is also in there, so the room is less cluttered.

"What time are you going to be home? I might give Ron a call and invite him and Hermione over for dinner." Harry says as I walk back into our bedroom, now fully clothed.

"Are you going to cook? Because I am not cooking for everybody," I say, grinning at the look of disgust that passes across his face at the mention of my cooking.

"Are you kidding? You can barely cook for just us! I won't put my best friends through horrors like that. It's funny, because Hermione can't cook to save her life either. It's only Ron and I who can cook edible meals out of the four of us."

I laugh too, "Yeah, strange. Mum would be scandalised if she knew that only half of her daughters, in law or otherwise, are able to cook. Fleur, Ange and Penny can, but the rest of us… icky. I should be done for five o' clock. Invite Charlie and Lucy too; you, Charlie and Ron can cook for us while we sip glasses of Riesling." I say while slipping on my ice-dipped shoes.

"Sure, you keep thinking that. There is still a whole 20 minutes before you have to go, whatever shall you do?" Harry says in a mockingly horror-struck voice.

I walk towards him, my hips swinging in the way I know drives him insane. I see his Adam's apple bob as he visibly swallows,

"I can think of a few ways," I murmur as he seems to be unable to resist any longer and captures my lips in his.

Somehow, I end up against the wall "How did I get here?" I smile between knee-knocking kisses,

"Mmm, I don't know." He replies without removing his lips from mine. That right there is pure skill.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love his voice? It's quite deep, very different from the nervy little eleven-year-old, but it isn't gravelly or rough. If I were tacky enough, I'd say that it's like velvet, but less perfect.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry's shirt has been discarded onto the floor, mine is unzipped at the back and pulled down to my waist, and my stockings have mysteriously disappeared without my shoes coming off. Meh, guess I won't be wearing stockings today. Straightening myself up, I re-zip my top, well, attempt to re-zip it.

"Where are you going?" Harry asks, carefully pulling the 'invisible' zip up the length of my back.

I nod my thanks, and walk into the en suite to fix my dishevelled appearance, "I have a wedding dress appointment to not miss. Aw, there's that smile! The mere mention of our upcoming nuptials slaps it right bam on your face." I can't actually _see_ his face per se, but I just know that his grin will only have gotten bigger.

"It is so sexy when you read my mind like that, Gin." He says smoothly, not missing a beat. I smile, and take one final look in the mirror before walking back into the main bedroom where Harry is. I place my hands daintily on his chest and open my mouth to speak,

"I am going to have to love you and leave you." I give him a quick peck on the lips, "I'll see you when I return from this medieval form of torture, don't forget to make dinner! Bye." And with that, I exit our multi-coloured, sparkly front door and walk the short distance to the Burrow.


	16. ODD LITTLE SAYINGS

**This is predominantly an authors note. Sorry. But I've included a lovely cheesy bt not written by me, but in fact by somebody mysterious on the ibternet, to make up for it.**

**The reason for this is to tell you that I am currently re-working this. I may also re-title it, because I don't love this title. But in order to do so, I will have to finish typing. I have actually finished writing, awhile ago actually. But when the time comes, I will put up another note to tell you all, then I'll delete this version and chuck up another, and will post chapters weekly or something equally organised.**

**Ta, and goodnight.**

_**Enjoy the poem-type thing, it's called**_

A Girl Who Reads

Date a girl who reads.

Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You'll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her 's the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That's the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She's the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she's kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author's making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce's Ulysses she's just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It's easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she's going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She'll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she's sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn't burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you're better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

* * *

Full credit to whoever wrote this. If it is by any (unlikely) chance you, and you have a problem with it being here, lemme know and I'll take it down.

_**CHOCOLATE FISH**_


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